


Now The City Blacks Out The Sun

by Sportatiddy (TjLockticon)



Series: curled up, died, and now it's Rotten [4]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Budding Love, Elf Sportacus (LazyTown), Fairy!Robbie, Gen, I'm back baby, Loftskip is 2 seconds away from quitting this shitshow, M/M, Magic, Monster horror, Psychological Horror, Wings, all the pain, in which it somehow gets worse and better at the same time, plz Teejay just leave the kids out of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2018-10-24 11:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 150,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10740588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TjLockticon/pseuds/Sportatiddy
Summary: Robbie and Sportacus finally know the truth about Lazytown's resident monster, and what happened to their loved ones that fateful night years ago. Now that their personal issues have been resolved, they face a challenge even harder than fighting the monster:Finding a way tosaveit.Neither of them are sure that such a thing is even possible.But it's not like the situation can get any worse, right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Heath Ledger Joker voice* And heeeere weee GO!!

Loftskip did not see the monster for the entirety of the night after Sportacus and Robbie finally had their long-awaited discussion, during which the half-fae's wings had been freed and certain... emotions had been confessed. Personally, she couldn't help but wonder  _how_ it'd taken them both so long to come to the same conclusion, but now was better than never.

Why was it that both her elves shared the same preference for Seelie men? AI she might be, but she was no stranger to affection, or attraction - her crystal did allow her the full spectrum of emotions - but the idea of falling for a Seelie seemed quite impossible. The cultural gap was enormous, never mind the lingering enmity from centuries of cold warfare... though she supposed it was less a problem of their Seelie nature, and more an issue of both her elves falling for Seelies  _in the same family._

Well, Glanni wasn't  _directly_ related to Robbie, but it was family all the same, and not the most stable of families, at that.  _Any_ group involved with Glanni Glaepur ran the risk of instability, simply thanks to the man's propensity for crime and recklessness.

Robbie, at least, seemed to fall on the tamer side of Seelie misbehavior.

Even if he  _had_ spent three months trying to run Sportacus out of town.

And now he had escalated from convoluted plots, strange devices, and hostile magic to _kissing_.

Seelies were very strange.

But, she was certainly not going to  _complain_ about this new development. Honesty and affection were a considerable improvement over bitter bickering and that tiptoeing around trust that they'd been doing up until this point.

Dealing with the monster would be significantly easier when the boys weren't also trying to deal with each other. And Loftskip could now afford the monster her  _full_ attention, without having to worry about separating the boys or intervening in an argument or just hoping in frustration that they would resolve their issues and admit their feelings. 

Analyzing the monster was straightforward enough, if not  _simple._ There were only three components - four, if you counted the involvement of the maple, but that was more a catalyst than anything - and two out of those three components, she knew quite well. Íþró, she knew like the ins and outs of her own computers, just as well as she knew Sportacus now. She knew his desperate obsessive tendencies, the way he loved things too much, and his knack for defying authority, and his adoration for his younger cousin. 

More importantly, Loftskip knew his  _magic._ Once, his crystal had been just as attuned to hers as Sportacus's, and while that was no longer the case - save for occasional phantom glimpses of old memories - Loftskip still remembered the fine workings of his crystal, its many scars and cracks, and the ways in which it was strongest. Íþró's magic was not quite the same as Sportacus's. Íþró favored magic that made him stronger, claws and senses sharper, magic that bolstered his wards and made him a bulwark against all but the strongest of enemies.

Sportacus, on the other, she knew hadn't had much occasion to exercise his magic, but even so, he seemed to favor quick bursts of magic - speed, agility, sight and hearing. He even tended towards atmospheric magic, similar to the spells of fairies, like Robbie.

And then there was Glanni. The Seelie criminal who had long been the bane of Loftskip's existence.

She knew little about his magic, but she knew enough from context to extrapolate. He wasn't full Seelie, a bit more than half, and from what Íþró had told her, almost seemed to utilize Unseelie magics. 

The difference between Seelie and Unseelie magic sometimes eluded Loftskip, as the differences were minute, but enough to create a severe distinction between the courts. Seelies, as far as she was aware, were masters of wards, and telekinesis, and augmentation of nonmagical objects and creatures, as was the case with their wisps - no more than fireflies given magic. Trees were perhaps the most famous of their allies, enchanted to hide their courts.

Unseelie courts, on the other hand, had absolute mastery of nonphysical concepts, training ideas and phantoms to do their bidding. The shadows were as much their allies as the Seelie trees, and Unseelie fae could craft glamours almost as well as elves, if not better in some respects. Elf glamours could stretch farther, but Unseelie glamours could cut deeper, rending a mind apart while the fae laughed in shadows.

How had Íþró referred to Glanni's power? Shadowstepping? And his perfect mastery of sleight magic, slipping just enough of a ward here and a glamour there-

No wonder Glanni was an outcast from his own court. Not quite Seelie, not quite Un. Somewhere between summer and winter.

His magic, Loftskip was at least  _aware_ of, and his personality to almost the same extent, although she was sure her assumptions were biased.

It was the third component of the monster that utterly  _baffled_ Loftskip.

She would have asked Robbie, but at the moment he was fast asleep in the bed beside Sportacus, with an elf tucked up to his chest and wings surrounding the both of them - and the sight reminded Loftskip of her conundrum.

She had delved through all her records, all her data on known fae, but she had never heard of Ana Glaepur. She knew other individuals who had lived in the Court that used to dwell outside Lazytown, but no one of the likes of Robbie's mother. To make things worse, she was a true Seelie... a true Seelie, who had been rendered devoid of her wings.

Loftskip hadn't even the faintest idea what to expect from Ana Glaepur. The woman was more of an enigma than Glanni had ever been - while Glanni was well known and loathed by the heroic order, Ana Glaepur remained elusive. She would ask Robbie in the morning, but he'd only been a child when he knew her, and Loftskip doubted he would remember much about her magic, considering he hadn't even been able to remember her face.

Loftskip's computers hummed.

...Ana Glaepur was a powerful Seelie.

Íþró had always been careful, always been able to keep himself in check, but this woman had posed enough of a threat to him to cause him to take her  _wings._ Loftskip had no idea of the context of the situation, but as she had told Sportacus, she doubted Íþró would be moved to such an act unless facing absolute threat of death. Not even Glanni had ever come close to putting Íþró in that situation.

Further still, based on what she had extrapolated from Robbie... it seemed the wings were taken  _before_ the fateful events of the night the three of them went missing, taken down into the sewers by the maple.

So. Ana Glaepur, even without wings, with her magic  _severely_ crippled, was capable of compelling a Court maple to imprison the three of them, deep below Lazytown, for more than a decade and a half.

Loftskip's knowledge of fairies was limited, but even  _that_ seemed like a stretch of power, which led her to the conclusion that Ana Glaepur had to be an _immensely_ powerful Seelie. Based on how the creature had behaved, Loftskip gathered that Ana seemed to be their center mass - the fact that it bore her face only led credence to Loftskip's theory.

Ana Glaepur was their center, and the most powerful of the three, powerful even by fae standards...

Loftskip usually hated jumping to conclusions, but in this case a leap of faith seemed justified.

Aside from her working theory, Loftskip knew a few things, almost for certain:

Their combined power and presence had been enough to drive an entire  _Court_ out of their territory.

To some extent, each of their individual minds were still present in the creature.

And despite how their minds had been degraded and corrupted over the passage of time, in some way, they still knew Robbie and Sportacus, and...  _cared_ about them.

It was the last two of those small pieces of knowledge that gave Loftskip the hope that there was some way to reach Glanni, Íþró, and Ana Glaepur - some way to connect to them and pacify them. Further still, if they retained their individual identities, in some way... 

Maybe there was a way to separate them again.

Loftskip had her doubts - especially since no creature like them existed in the world - but in all her time serving as Íþró's airship, she'd picked up on a few of his habits, and she was nothing if not stubborn, and more hopeful than an airship ought to be.

If there was even the  _slightest_ chance, until it was proved beyond any shred of doubt to the contrary-

She would hold out hope that the three of them could be saved.

Loftskip tasked three of her computers to keep searching through her data libraries for any similarities to any other situation in the history of all elven and fairy-kind, and watched the edges of Lazytown for the monster as the sun crept into the sky.

 

* * *

 

Sportacus woke up surrounded by warmth, with someone's breath gently disturbing his hair, and he couldn't really tell where his arms ended around someone's waist and where their arms found his shoulders-

The breath turned into a loud snore, and Sportacus woke up all the way with a jolt.

Two inches away from him was Robbie, face pressed into the blankets, pillow lying over his head, snoring softer now. Sportacus sat up slowly, trying not to disturb the man's slumber, and rubbed the sleep crust out of his eyes.

With every inhale and exhale, something purple fluttered lazily behind Robbie's back, draping over the side of the bed. 

Sportacus ran his fingers over his lips as an uncertain, still somewhat disbelieving smile crossed his face.

_Robbie has wings._

_"Good morning, Sportacus,"_ he suddenly heard a voice above say quietly.

Startling at the sound, Sportacus glanced upwards, cracking a smile at the ceiling and responding in the same subdued tone, "Hi, ship."

_"Did you sleep well?"_

At the knowing tone in her voice, Sportacus couldn't help but blush just a little bit. Rubbing the back of his neck, he absentmindedly reached out and ran his fingers through Robbie's hair.

_"I take it that's a yes, then."_

Sportacus rolled his eyes. "You were here the whole time, you should know."

 _"Oh, dear child,"_  she said in a tone that could be taken as sarcastic, _"I **do** happen to have standards. I would not eavesdrop on your private conversations. But I did watch." _ She went quiet, and the ship's engine rattled.  _"So it seems you share your cousin's likeness in more than just appearance and reckless heroism. In all ways a disgrace to the Order. I couldn't be more proud."_

"Shut up, ship," Sportacus retorted, still smiling. 

 _"You seem to have a worse case than your cousin,"_ the ship continued,  _"at least Íþró experienced attraction towards elves prior to meeting Glanni. But you went straight for the nearest half-Seelie, didn't you?"_

"I didn't  _know_ he was half-Seelie when I met him," Sportacus pointed out.

_"Details, details."_

Sportacus's hand wandered down from Robbie's hair to his forehead, and he was barely paying attention as his palm pressed to the man's skin, expecting clamminess or heat or some combination of the two.

Instead, Robbie's skin felt -  _normal._

Head snapping around, Sportacus leaned over Robbie, still pressing his palm to Robbie's forehead. As he hovered, he realized he must've shifted the bed too much, as Robbie's snoring stopped abruptly, and his steel gray eyes slowly opened halfway to look up at Sportacus.

"...uh," Robbie mumbled, voice still a bit nasal, "hi?"

Sportacus's smile broadened. "Robbie, your fever broke," he breathed in relief.

Robbie blinked. "You're, um. Here."

Leaning back a bit, pulling his hand off Robbie's head, Sportacus murmured hesitantly, "Where else would I be?"

With a faint grimace, Robbie pushed himself off the bed, glancing down at his still bare chest. As soon as he sat up, his wings twitched attentively, and both his arms shot up to his shoulders, reaching backwards and feeling for the velvety soft wings extending from between his shoulder blades.

"...so I  _didn't_ dream all of that?" Robbie whispered shakily.

Sportacus shook his head and inched closer to Robbie, reaching up and brushing his thumb over Robbie's cheek. "You didn't."

Robbie's fingers reached up and curled just the slightest bit around Sportacus's hand. The hesitation was palpable in the shaking of Robbie's arms, and the biting of his lip, but he still leaned forward and pressed his lip's to Sportacus's cheek for a half a second before pulling away, blushing furiously as he twisted his head around to look over his shoulders.

"Crap. Those aren't going to fit under a shirt, are they?"

Loftskip's voice filled the room.  _"It is my understanding that even half-fae are capable of withdrawing their wings into their bodies. It may take time, however, considering the length of time your wings have spent in disuse."_

Sportacus pursed his lips. "...well, you can stay in the ship until we figure that out," he offered. 

Robbie shrugged, scratching the skin around his cast. "No complaints here." He let out a hoarse laugh. "Guess the kids get some relief from me ruining their fun."

"Robbie, you never ruin their fun. They think it's a game."

The look Robbie gave Sportacus was full of doubt. "Kids aren't stupid."

Sportacus had a sudden flashback to the supermarket, and the all-too-knowing look Stephanie had given him when he'd brought up Robbie. "Good point," Sportacus said, voice slightly higher-pitched than usual. Glancing around the room, he rubbed the back of his neck and asked, "Ship, what time is it?"

_"It is 11:15."_

Robbie suppressed a laugh as Sportacus let out a choked squawk. "What??"

_"You two seemed comfortable. And you still need to heal, so I decided to let you sleep longer."_

Still snickering, Robbie nudged Sportacus in the arm and teased, "Calm down, the kids can deal without you for one morning."

 _"Robbie is correct,"_  Loftskip agreed. _"Besides, they are still in school. And I have been monitoring the rest of Lazytown throughout the night. There have been no incidents that would require our assistance."_

The monster went unmentioned for the time being, even though the thought of it was visible in the furrow of Robbie's brow, and the clenching of Sportacus's jaw, and the silence that followed Loftskip's words. Drawing in a deep breath, Sportacus tried to focus on anything but their current problem, which was not the kind of thing either he or Robbie needed to worry about right now. They'd done enough worrying, they could afford just a  _little_ bit of a break.

Sportacus heard Robbie's stomach growl.

"...want breakfast?" he asked, suddenly acutely aware of just how  _bizarre_ this whole situation was.

Breakfast was so...  _mundane._ Despite everything that had happened the past few days, breakfast was the thing that felt the most abnormal. Probably because it was breakfast with  _Robbie,_ which up until last night had been, in Sportacus's mind, the least likely outcome of any of their interactions. 

...well, least likely up until the kiss.  _That,_ he hadn't even  _considered._ Fantasized about, sure, but he never imagined it might actually happen.

The corner of Robbie's mouth twitched. "No sportscandy."

Sportacus grinned, and some of the strangeness felt like it dissipated. "Obviously." Hopping off the bed, he went over to the pantry and pulled out a box of overtly sugary cereal, and a handful of grapes for himself.

Over his shoulder, he heard Robbie ask, "You got hot cocoa mix, right?"

"Yep." Sportacus grabbed a packet of the mix, too. "You want some?"

"Yeah." After a moment, he heard a mumbled, "Please."

A few minutes and two mugs later - one for Robbie's cocoa, and one for Sportacus that was only heated milk - Sportacus returned to the bed, noting that Robbie had reclaimed the blankets. For the first time he realized just how small his bed was, and he doubted that he, Robbie, and food would survive on it without something getting spilled.

"Ship, double beds," he asked.

Robbie's head shot up. "Do what now?"

The wall panel to Robbie's left sprang out perpendicular, presenting a second, identical bed that fit right next to the one Robbie had colonized with the blankets. He side-eyed it warily as Sportacus sat down on fresh sheets and a pillow that were sure to be appropriated for Robbie's use at some point, but for now he enjoyed the comfort. And the leg room.

Handing Robbie his cereal and mug, Sportacus cupped his hands around his own mug, holding the warmth close to his chest.

The emptiness was still there. 

He could  _hear_ the crystal in the wall compartment Loftskip had hidden it within. Its cries had softened to weak whimpers that sounded somewhere between a wounded animal and a dying computer and the scraping of polished stones against each other. For the life of him, Sportacus couldn't tell if the sounds were  _normal,_ or if they were still lying, still trying to manipulating him into giving back control to a creature that could barely control its own mind.  _Minds._

How was he supposed to  _know??_ Just... take a chance and hope it was as free as he was now, or hide it away and never risk touching it again, and thus never be able to hear it when it knew someone was in trouble? What kind of hero would he be, then??

"...you okay?" Robbie asked suddenly, voice muffled by the spoon in his mouth.

Sportacus blinked dazedly and realized his claws had slipped out, and were digging into the mug.

"Fine," he grated out.

Robbie scoffed. "Sure. I'm not that dense, you were  _thinking._ Your lips get all pouty when you think."

Sportacus gripped the mug tighter and tried pointedly to look anywhere  _but_ the wall behind him. Robbie stared at him with narrowed eyes for another minute, pursing his lips around the spoon, until he finally removed it and said in a low tone, "You're thinking about your crystal, aren't you?"

Averting his gaze, Sportacus took a burning sip of milk and murmured, "Yes." Steeling himself, he looked over his shoulder at the wall, hand unconsciously slipping down to rub his chest. "I can hear it now."

Robbie's eyes narrowed further when Sportacus turned back around to face him. "I guess that means my shadows aren't cloaking it anymore."

Sportacus shook his head. "It... it sounds like it always does. But I don't know if that means I can trust it again." His hand gripped his shirt. "What if I touch it and they take me over again?"

Robbie gave Sportacus a doubting look. "Okay, I get the concern, I do, but do you  _really_ think they're...  _that_ strong??"

 _"It is entirely likely,"_ the ship interrupted. Both Robbie and Sportacus looked up to the ceiling as Loftskip continued,  _"There is a decent chance they still possess some manner of connection to the crystal. In fact, it is doubtless that they do. Íþró and Sportacus's crystals are connected innately, though there is no way to say if Íþró's crystal even still functions. My worry as to whether they could take control of Sportacus again has more to do with your mother, Robbie."_

At this, both Sportacus and Robbie recoiled, but it was Robbie who squawked, "What - what do you mean? What _about_  my mother??"

Loftskip almost seemed to sigh - the engines hitched for a brief moment, and the lights dimmed just enough for the change to be noticeable.  _"I am well aware of Íþró's magical abilities, and have enough data on Glanni to anticipate the behavior of both of their magics. However, I have no idea what the extent of your mother's powers are. The only thing of which I am certain is that she is extremely powerful, as it seems she is responsible for their... current state, and you told us her wings were removed prior to the events of that night, which should have crippled her beyond being able to accomplish such a feat of magic."_

Robbie's wings drooped and pinned against his back. Sportacus wasn't even sure if he was aware they were doing so, but between the wings and the slight widening of Robbie's eyes, Sportacus could tell just how uncomfortable Robbie was upon hearing Loftskip's words. Scooting forward on the bed, he reached out slowly and worked his hand into Robbie's. Half of him expected Robbie to pull away out of habit.

Still staring up at the ceiling, Robbie gripped Sportacus's hand tight.

Loftskip waited for a few moments until it was clear Robbie wasn't up to saying anything, and she said,  _"I know nothing about Ana Glaepur. She does not exist, according to my records, and that anonymity is a rare trait among the fae. In fact, only the highest echelons of the courts seem to be totally obscured from elvish knowledge."_  She paused for a second, then asked softly, _"Robbie... do you know what your mother's role in your Court was?"_

Robbie bit his lower lip. "I... I was just a kid when we left. I barely remember the other fairies. We lived in some cottage in the woods, outside the rest of the court, I think." The hand not currently occupied by Sportacus's fingers clenched the blankets. "She was almost never home. She left me in the cottage or the fae nursery and I... never asked her what she did. I never asked her  _anything_ about the court. She just told me her rules and that was it."

_"Did she teach you her magic?"_

Robbie shook his head. "No, I learned most of it from Glanni. Her magic..." He shrugged slowly. "I don't know. She read constellations. She could make yarn out of nothing and turn it into shapes. She wasn't good at making wards, but she... she was good at undoing them." He glanced over at Sportacus, and smirked weakly. "She ran over your cousin with a car once."

Sportacus's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "She did  _what??"_

"Glanni stopped sending letters," Robbie explained with a barely-there smile. "She went after him." His hand drifted up across his chest, resting on his shoulder. "My... the first time my wings came out, she was gone."

Now it was Sportacus's turn to stare at the ceiling in confusion. "Wait, Íþró met Ana? Did he tell  _you_ that??"

 _"He only told me Glanni had an... ally. Who was considerably stronger than either of them."_ She went momentarily silent.  _"And yes, I was aware of the incident with the car. He was not too badly hurt. Mostly bruised. His magic took the brunt of the blow."_

A look of absolute horror and shock overcame Sportacus's face. His mouth floundered open uselessly for a bit before clamping shut. His hand only squeezed Robbie's tighter. 

 _"Robbie, I understand you may not remember,"_ Loftskip continued, as if divulging the information about the car was something that would be  _normal_ and not a cause for alarm in any way, shape, or form,  _"but did anyone ever come looking for you and your mother? Did anyone try to bring you back to your Court?"_

The biting intensified, and Sportacus worried for a moment that Robbie's lip might start bleeding. "...no. Except for the trees, no one tried to stop us."

 _"The trees?"_ Loftskip echoed.

"Yeah," Robbie said with a grimace. "They kept... reaching. Mostly for me."

_"But no fae? Only the trees?"_

Sportacus frowned up at the ceiling. "Ship, what are you-?"

 _"I may have a theory,"_ Loftskip murmured.  _"I have no way of being sure, but it might help us find a solution to the problem. Additionally, defending ourselves and the town from them will be easier if we know the full extent of their combined power."_

Robbie's wings rose slightly behind him, ends flicking tensely as he glowered at the ship with a mix of apprehension and possibly fear. "...fine, what  _theory_ do you have about my mother?" he asked stiffly.

 _"I am not sure if you are aware of this, considering how you were raised, but Courts do not release their fae easily,"_ Loftskip explained.  _"Glanni's exile is an exception, of course, but he has made enemies of both elves and fae. The fact that you and your mother were not stopped, or pursued further, begs certain questions. Between that and the evident power she possesses, I am almost absolutely certain your mother was not an average Seelie. If she were, your escape from your Court would've been much more difficult."_

Robbie snorted. "It was bad enough already with the trees, you're saying it should've been  _worse?"_

 _"Fae trees do not know the difference between fairies,"_ Loftskip said.  _"They only know the difference between fae and all other magical folk, and they are known for being possessive, so it is no surprise the trees tried to keep you. However, I now suspect that the Court was aware of your mother's departure, and elected to allow her to leave, and you with her."_

"No Court wants a half-fairy," Robbie muttered sourly.

 _"I believe,"_ Loftskip intoned,  _"it is more likely that no Court would wish to impede the actions of a Queenscourt Seelie."_

At the word  _queen,_ Sportacus sucked in a sharp gasp, head snapping back up to stare wide-eyed at the ship. Robbie only frowned, taken aback by Sportacus's sudden rapid breathing and the washing of all color from his face. The bewilderment on Robbie's face only increased as Sportacus slowly looked back at him, stunned and struggling to find his voice.

"What's got you all worked up??" Robbie sputtered, unnerved by Sportacus's sudden shock. "What's a Queenscourt Seelie??"

Sportacus licked his lips slowly, barely daring to breathe as he ran the ship's words through his head.

She was their center,  _she_ was the one controlling them, and  _she_ was the one who made them even after her  _wings_ were gone-

And Loftskip knew  _nothing_ about her. 

"...she really never told you anything about Courts?" Sportacus whispered. 

"No, she  _really_ never did!" Robbie pushed his cereal bowl to the side of the bed, leaning onto his knees and looking Sportacus dead in the eyes. "What the  _hell_ is a Queenscourt and what's so important about a Queenscourt fairiy??"

Sportacus pressed the side of his hand to his mouth, sucking in a deep breath to collect his focus. "No... no one really knows much about them, but all Seelie Courts are technically satellites of the single Court belonging to the Seelie Queen."

Robbie blanched. "There's a fairy  _queen??"_

Sportacus nodded quickly. "No one's ever seen her, and no one knows where her Court is or how big it is, but it's  _strong._ She always sends diplomats, but the elvish council has tried to negotiate an exchange of information, and no Court has ever given up the Queen. The only things we know are a lot of rumors and lore and stuff like that. The Heroic Order always thought she sent her own fairies out to her satellite courts, but no one could ever figure out how to tell the difference between normal fae and Queenscourt fae."

The shock that had overwhelmed Sportacus moments ago slowly took shape on Robbie's face, and he sat back onto his knees, staring off into space with a heavily knit brow and fingers tugging at the blankets restlessly.

"...and you," he whispered, "you think my  _mother_ was part of the - the Queenscourt?"

 _"There is no way to know for sure,"_ Loftskip spoke up,  _"but it does make sense. Queenscourt fae are rumored to be exponentially more powerful than the average fae, and it would certainly explain why no one from your Court ever troubled you after you left. The Queenscourt diplomats the Order has dealt with in the past seem to have the freedom to roam between Courts, without the expectation of returning home. It would stand to reason that your mother used this to her advantage to keep you away from the Courts, and away from any harm that could come to you from them."_

Robbie's mouth curled into a frown. "But - what does her being a - a Queenscourt fairy have to do with anything?? How does that  _help?"_

Realization dawned on Sportacus suddenly. 

"They were all still _there_ ," he murmured. "In - in the monster. Even after all this time."

"So??" Robbie hissed quietly. 

"So, if your mother was a Queenscourt fae," Sportacus said slowly, "that could explain how they've managed to stay alive?? If she was powerful enough to - to turn them  _into_ that thing, maybe it's her power that's keeping their minds alive. More or less." Grasping Robbie's hand with both of his, Sportacus leaned forward and said softly, "They still remember us. Your mother - when they - when they were in my head, her voice was the strongest. I thought it was all their magic that did this, at first, but - she's their _center,_ Robbie. If - if she's the one keeping them together-"

 _"She may be the key to separating them,"_ Loftskip finished gently.  _"It does not give us much, but it's a start, at least."_

Robbie sagged forward into Sportacus, and their foreheads pressed together, each of them silently trying to work through the last five minutes of conversation, and all the  _maybes_ and  _probablys_ and half-there theories that might or might not have been true. Neither of them knew anything for sure at this point, about crystals or Queenscourts or anything else, but as Loftskip had said; it was a start.

Sportacus's fingers curled into Robbie's and held tight.

"It's a start," he whispered.

Robbie let out a shaking breath, wings fluttering behind him uncertainly.

"Yeah," he murmured. "It is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, ain't that a nice way to start of this pain train.
> 
> -
> 
> Hey, a quick thing, thanks to a suggestion from a lovely reader (you know who you are) I've begun to consider getting a Patreon to support my original works. I am completely new to the idea of using Patreon and as such really have no set plan about how I'm going to go about running one, and I haven't launched anything yet, but until I do, would anybody who reads this have any interest/inclination towards potentially supporting me on Patreon?
> 
> As always, love all of you and all your delicious comments!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sportacus plz take a gotdam chill pill

"Do you think she made it there okay?"

"Sportacus, if you don't stop pacing-"

"Maybe I should go check on her."

Robbie dragged his hands down his face and groaned while Sportacus paced restlessly between the bed and the pantry, clutching a bowl of strawberries that he was shoving in his mouth every other word with the kind of fervor even Robbie thought was a bit excessive. The elf's pacing was making his wings tense up, which was just -  _weird._ He still hadn't quite adjusted to having them, and despite a day and a half having passed since they were freed, he hadn't found a way to pull them back inside his shoulders.

Not that he  _wanted_ to do that quite yet, but at some point he was going to have to figure it out, if he ever wanted to walk around Lazytown again.

Sportacus popped two strawberries in his mouth. "She said she'd only be out for an hour, it's been an hour and ten minutes, I should-"

"If you even  _touch_ that door," Robbie said sternly, "I will douse you in sugar." Stretching his back, cracking his spine in at least three different places, he felt gingerly around where his wings attached. The cuts had faded to scabs within the span of a day, and by now his fever was all but gone. Just a bit of clogging in his nose was all that was left. "It's the middle of the day, she'll be fine."

For the moment, Robbie's threat seemed to work on Sportacus, who finally stopped pacing and ate another three strawberries in rapid anxious procession. "Yes, but she's going  _underground,_ and your house isn't exactly secure anymore-"

"Would you rather I just kept stealing your clothes? They  _really_ don't fit me that well."

Two more strawberries disappeared between Sportacus's lips and Robbie realized with a start that he was having a real problem with  _staring_ at said lips. The elf hadn't seemed to notice quite yet, so Robbie let himself stare a little while longer. Sportacus paused with one hand in the bowl and glanced over at Robbie, biting at his lower lip. It was probably unintentional, but that didn't change the fact that Robbie started blushing  _immediately._

"She  _could_ just make you new clothes, Robbie," Sportacus suggested.

Robbie rolled his eyes. "With fae sigils and wards in them?" When Sportacus didn't answer, he crossed his arms over his chest and gave a haughty smirk. "That's what I thought. Besides, it was her idea."

"But she-"

"Oh, litla hetja, have a little more faith in me," a vaguely female voice cut in before Sportacus could launch into another rant about safety and underground homes and monsters in sewers. 

The door to the outside platform slid open, and in strode a figure easily a head taller than Robbie, slim and plated in metallic blues, blacks, and hints of silver. Sitting on the robotic frame's chest was a cabochon crystal twice the size of Robbie's fist, and smaller lenses of a similar off-white and blue shade took the place of eyes on a head with a single metal fin extending from the 'skull'. Lightly bouncing on 'feet' that were little more than curved rubber and metal running stilts, Loftskip walked into the ship with an armful of clothes and a plastic bag of a few other odds and ends from Robbie's house.

Robbie gratefully accepted the largest purple sweater from the pile, and fished out a pair of fabric scissors from the bag while Loftskip put the rest of the clothes into a shelf in the ship's wall. 

Sportacus pouted at the back of the airship's robotic body. "I'm allowed to worry," he muttered petulantly.

Lofskip craned her head back to look at him, her metal mouth parting slightly as a still electronic voice said, "You are allowed to do no such thing when it come to me. I have been taking care of you since you were a child, I am plenty capable of doing the same for myself." 

Robbie couldn't help but notice that in her auxiliary form, Loftskip's accent was even harder to understand than Sportacus's. Apparently he was cursed, a fact which Sportacus kindly reinforced by chucking a strawberry across the room at the back of Loftskip's head. With a sharp turn, she dodged the wayward fruit and stepped into a wall compartment. As the wall slid closed over her, the hum of the airship's engine quickened, and the pilot lights in the ceiling flickered back on.

 _"At no point did I encounter our... problem,"_ Loftskip said, voice once again emanating from everywhere at once.  _"There was no sign of them in Robbie's house or anywhere else in the vicinity. I suspect they have stayed within the sewers. The only difficulty I encountered was in entering Robbie's house. It seems his wards are still active to an extent, and were not pleased by my presence."_

Robbie's head shot up as he cut into the back of his sweater. "They what? But I thought I-" He gave Sportacus an odd look. "I said your  _name._ Shouldn't that, like... make you immune to my wards or something?"

 _"Your invitation to Sportacus did not apply to me,"_ Loftskip said.  _"However, your wards recognized the similarity between my crystal and his after a time, and I doubt they could've kept me at bay even if they hadn't accepted me. Frankly I am amazed they are still active at all."_

Robbie shrugged, and he could feel his wings lift with him. Their weight was barely there, but it was enough to be felt, and it sent a shiver down his spine whenever he remembered they were  _there._ "Glanni was a good teacher, I guess." 

The air in the ship seemed to tighten at the mention of one of their names. Sportacus slowly wandered back to the bed as Robbie hunched over his sweater, and set his strawberries aside as he sat down, running his tongue over his lips uncertainly.

"We... should probably start coming up with a plan," he said slowly. 

Robbie's fingers curled around the scissors. "...yeah. I guess."

 _"If I may make a suggestion?"_ Loftskip asked.

Immediately, Robbie and Sportacus chorused, "Yes." 

The engine hitched just a bit, like a confused stutter. With a barely-there sigh, and something that could have been a faint chuckle, Loftskip said,  _"I have been researching known magical phenomena for the past week. While there are no recorded circumstances of this exact nature, their... current condition bears certain similarities to a homunculus."_

Robbie stared blankly at the ceiling. "A homunca- _what?"_

"It's a creature made from alchemy," Sportacus explained as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world. "One of the few magics humans can learn and master, actually."

"Oh, well why didn't you just  _say_ so?" Robbie grumbled. "What does this hummusculus have to do with anything? They're not - they're not a _creature_ _."_

 _"A **homunculus** ," _Loftskip corrected,  _"is an artificial life form. They can take whatever shape their creator determines, and the materials and methods involved in their creation vary, but they all have one thing in common; they are created from a base animal, and the removal of that base destroys the homunculus."_

Robbie lifted up the sweater, scrutinizing the fresh holes in the back. Slowly he slipped his arms through the sleeves, working it over his head and trying not to possibly damage his wings in the process. Halfway through worming it down his torso, he realized the wings were getting stuck through the holes. "Sportacus, uh - can you-"

"Sure." Sportacus quickly moved around to Robbie's back and helped ease the wings through the holes, inch by inch.

_"While I am certain that their fusion was not intentional, as in the case of a homunculus, the magical process that created them may be similar enough to apply the same concepts about reversing it. It is my theory that one of them serves as the base, and the removal-"_

"Not so fast!" Robbie yelped as Sportacus gently tugged one wing through the hole.

"Sorry!"

_"-the removal of that one may be enough to catalyze the process of separation, and since they are each an individual being - neither of you are listening, are you?"_

Sportacus worked Robbie's other wing through the hole, and Robbie rolled the sweater the rest of the way down his body, relishing the cotton comfort and warmth it supplied, without cramping his wings underneath it. The skin around his wings still itched, but at least he had  _clothes._ "Thanks," he mumbled to Sportacus, who was, in typical sappy elvish fashion, now admiring the wings with a faint smile.

_"Oh, dear. It seems a meteor is about to impact on Lazytown and save us the trouble of discussing this any further."_

Sportacus's eyes went wide. "Wait, what??"

Robbie grimaced. Even _he_ could tell the difference between the airship being serious and _annoyed._  

Gods, his elf could be dense sometimes. Maybe that was part of the appeal. 

Loftskip sighed.  _"Do I have your attention now?"_

"Yes," Robbie said on behalf of them both.

 _"Good. Now, as I was saying, I believe we might be able to apply the concepts of homunculus creation and destruction to our friends in the sewer,"_ Loftskip stated.  _"In the case of a homunculus, the removal of any one component destroys it. However, since the components of our monster are each individuals, I believe that removing their core would cause their fused state to destabilize, and allow us to separate them back to their original selves."_

"Their core?" Sportacus echoed. "You mean...?"

_"Ana."_

Robbie's heartbeat skipped. His hand reflexively shifted over the blankets, finding Sportacus's fingers and nervously weaving in between them. His chest felt a bit lighter when Sportacus squeezed his hand back. "Are," he cleared his throat, "are you sure she's their core?"

_"I cannot be absolutely sure, but it makes the most sense. She is the most powerful of them all, and seems to be the one who is at their physical center. In any case, I would advise trying to remove her first."_

"How would we-" Robbie stammered. "How would we even  _do_ that??" His mind started racing. "We'd have to - we'd have to  _find_ them again, and keep them still long enough to do anything, and we don't even - seriously,  _what_ would we do?? Take a hacksaw to them and start cutting and hope for the best?"

He noticed Sportacus pale a bit at the morbid suggestion. The elf scratched the back of his neck and slowly suggested, "There are...  _ways_ to keep things still. Binding charms, things like that. I don't know them very well, but my cousin taught me them, I could practice a bit..."

"You can't be serious," Robbie hissed weakly.

Sportacus bit his lip again. "It's the best lead we have."

"We would have to  _find_ them," Robbie croaked. "Or wait for them to come to  _us._ I don't know which one I hate  _more."_

 _"I would suggest waiting until we have figured out more of this plan,"_ Loftskip said.  _"You both should be at peak magical ability before we attempt anything. I calculate you should fully recover within a few days. As for the hacksaw, it will not be needed. I have access to alchemical records, I will further research the homunculus and try to come up with a similar technique that could be applied with your magic, Robbie."_

"Why me??"

 _"You are Ana's son,"_ Loftskip said gently.  _"Your magic is closest to hers. You will likely have the best chance of accessing her magic and separating them without... causing undue harm."_

'Killing them' went unsaid, but Robbie had a feeling it was on all their minds. Whatever plan they eventually went with, it would be half a shot in the dark - they just  _didn't know_ how the creature would react. Maybe it would understand, maybe it would lash out at them again.

Maybe they were already too far gone to be saved.

There were a lot of maybes.

 _"Even before we make any attempts,"_ Loftskip said,  _"I think it would be wise if we all did research. You two should take it slow, but I think you should start practicing your magic. Especially you, Sportacus, I know you're rusty."_

Robbie didn't want to let go of Sportacus's hand quite yet, but he pried his fingers out anyway, and they gave each other a cautious look, silently sharing their worries in furrowing brows and frowns and bitten lips.

"I guess we practice?" Sportacus asked quietly.

Robbie shrugged, and his wings rose up behind him.

"...let's get started, then."

 

* * *

 

 

**_Wings._ **

They screeched at the damp sewer walls, scraping their too-heavy skin against the walls.

**_We failed-_ **

**No-no-try again we need to try again-**

_Nothing we can do we failed it's your fault-_

_**My fault-** _

.

.  
**.**

**F̴̡͔͙͕̳͕̙͌͊͂̈́͗͟Ą̛̱̯̫̘̭͈̦̤̄̀̈́̎̈͞͠Ų̢͈̯̮͓̥̏̃̈̎͛̌̽͢͜ͅḺ̶̢̻̖͕̣͔́͌̈͑̆͛͠Ţ̼̟̗̩̈́̔̃̂̑̒̏͟͟͜͜͠͝?**

.  
.

The sewers were too tight around them, too deep and too cold and too dark. The light hurt but it was  _there_ and it was above and it was where Sweetheart and Lítilblá were hiding - and the tall shape that moved without sound and was sometimes even farther above, the ship in the sky, they  _knew_ the name but they didn't remember,  _couldn't_ remember-

The walls were crumbling and they were crumbling, too, there was too much of  _them_ and everything else, too much for so long-

So cold and dark.

_Sunlight. Warm earth. Sky._

They - they  _needed-_

**_We-FAILED-_ **

They needed to try again. They  _had_ to, had to find a way -  _we **promised** -_

It was too dark down and too burning bright above, but-

_We have to try we have to try **again.**_

Up.

They needed to go up  _now,_ before the dark became too heavy and their skin too tight and the  _everything_ inside became too much, too much-

_Up._

_._

_._  
**.**  
**Ţ̵̧̧͕̠̍͐̏̀̾̌̕͘͠͡Ŗ̸͍͇̖̪͖̮̿͑̏̀͟͟͜͞E̘̫͔͖̯̜͑͆̌͆͊̆͗E̢̼͇̬̅̂͊̏̉̎͋̂̌͢S͓̯̥̼̫̙̹̼̤̙͂͋͌̉͘͝ A̷̞̫̩͍̟̙͉̔̑̎͒͞N͇̤̬͓̞̙̘̋͛̄̊̈́̂̿̍D̷̛̪̻̙̰̹̼̅̀͋̋̅ͅ S̯͙̳̬̥̬͊̎̀̓̋͐̄̕̚U̡̧͎̺̮̐͆̇̔͋̓̄͘͞ͅŅ͓̼͕̩̭̱̄͋͛̿͛̇̃͟͢-**  
.  
.

Purple and Blue.

_Try again._

_We have to try again._

Up, up, up towards the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but (somewhat) sweet chapter this time.
> 
> Hey! The boys are working together and figuring shit out! Clearly this means the author has decided to take pity on them and not further wound them terribly in the near future


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who called me out as a liar when I said I was taking pity on the boys:
> 
> You were right.

Robbie had forgotten just how much he hated  _learning_ magic.

Still sitting on Sportacus's bed - it was comfier than anywhere else in the airship - he had three books scattered around him on the mattress, all of them open and in the midst of being slowly read. The past few hours had been filled with nothing but  _reading,_ and it was giving Robbie flashbacks to when Glanni was teaching him shadowstepping and wards and enchantment glamours. 

Applying magic to his inventions and outfits was all well and good, but learning  _new_ magic just gave him headaches. If it weren't for Loftskip's continuing insistence that they do research, and the constant reminder of what would happen if they  _didn't,_ Robbie might've given up by now and resigned himself to sulking. In any case, he was still having difficulty concentrating, thanks to the nearby presence of the extremely distracting elf.

Robbie made the mistake of looking up from his book - a badly translated copy of an elvish historical account of early alchemy - and found Sportacus doing a handstand over an open book, alternating between supporting himself on either hand to turn the pages every now and again.

"Do you  _really_ have to read like that??" Robbie asked.

Sportacus craned his head backwards further than Robbie thought necks should be able to bend and glanced over at the bed. "It helps me think."

Robbie rolled his eyes. "Please tell me you haven't corrupted the children yet. If they start walking around on their hands like a horde of mini-yous, I'm never going into Lazytown again."

"What, you're just going to stay up here forever, then?" Sportacus said with a twitch of a grin. 

Robbie narrowed his eyes and hoped he wasn't blushing  _again._ "Maybe. I'm pretty sure she likes me better than you."

 _"Now, now,"_ Loftskip said for the first time in hours,  _"I don't play favorites. There is more than enough room for the both of you."_ After a pause, she added,  _"And rest assured, Robbie, he hasn't managed to corrupt the children quite yet."_

Robbie heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Well, thank gods for _that_. I can only deal with so many living nightmares at once." Tugging the sleeves of his sweater, he finally tore his eyes off Sportacus and silently counted himself lucky that the elf was only wearing sweatpants and not his  _usual_ outfit, which would've defined his...  _assets_ a bit more clearly, which was a distraction Robbie  _absolutely_ did not need.

Damn handstands.

Returning his attention to the book, Robbie pursed his lips and resumed thinking, trying to work through all the diagrams and the concepts explained in the books. He was never much good at learning from books - school had never been much fun for him, for a number of reasons, but that was one of the bigger ones. The ideas just never seemed  _real_ enough on paper. He had to practice, and he always went through a  _lot_ of trial and error before he ever managed to accomplish whatever experimental magic he was working on at any given time.

So far, the most he'd managed to glean from the books was a rough concept of how alchemy worked. It worked a lot like chemistry - one of his  _least_ favorite school subjects, which he suspected was a hangover from being half-fae. Most fae didn't seem to like chemistry or anything that could change the world like magic did,  _without_ magic. He knew his mother was always irritated when she had to attend the first and second grade science fairs. 

Robbie muffled a quiet laugh as he suddenly remembered how on edge his mother had been when she'd first seen a potato battery at one of those fairs. 

What would she think, if she saw him now, researching chemistry and alchemy and - and all while sitting in an elf's  _airship,_ with an elf, an elf he had  _kissed-_

Robbie's hand clenched the edge of the book and he forced himself to keep reading and stop thinking about  _her._

So. Alchemy was along the lines of chemistry, only with a bit more magic. It required the use of objects with magical properties, body parts from magical animals, objects imbued with ambient energy from beings like fairies and elves, and a  _lot_ of patience. One of the more popular uses of alchemy seemed to be transmuting metal into gold, and  _that,_ at least, Robbie could grasp as being conceptually similar to glamours making one thing look like another. 

It was all the stuff about homunculuses - homunculi?? - that he was completely failing to understand. The words were  _there,_ he could read them and remember them and imagine how he  _might_ apply it, but he was at a total loss as to how he would  _actually_ go about translating alchemy to fae magic in any useful way. 

" _Ugh_ ," he muttered, finally slamming the book closed and leaning back against the wall, careful not to lean too hard against his wings. Scowling at his hands, he tried to think about how the magic worked, how something involving materials and chemicals would change when attempted with pure magic and  _words-_

Nothing. Nothing was  _fitting_ in his brain, nothing was getting from his head to his tongue to his hands to his  _magic-_

Robbie groaned and pressed his palms into his eyes and wished he could just be  _useful_ for once.

 

* * *

 

Sportacus dropped down from his handstand as soon as he heard Robbie let out a frustrated groan. Crouching on the balls of his feet, he closed his book - which really wasn't doing anything helpful, the only way he'd get better at binding charms would be practice - and pushed it off to the side. Still crouching, he rested his arms on his knees and asked, "Need help, Robbie?"

"I hate everything," Robbie muttered, and Sportacus took that as a  _yes._

Suppressing a grin at the exasperation in Robbie's tone - a familiar sound, something he'd found himself sorely missing over the past week and a half - Sportacus hopped up and went to join Robbie on the bed. The half-fae was about halfway into the fetal position, back against the wall and wings emerging on either side, limp and exhausted. Sportacus couldn't help but take note of the fact that while they looked healthy and intact and  _beautiful,_ their edges were dull, and the points were still a bit crumpled, and they didn't shimmer quite as much as they had in the moonlight.

 _They've been tucked away for more than ten years,_ he reminded himself.  _Give it time._

He let himself imagine Robbie flying for a half a second, before he forced himself to concentrate on the present. "Research not going well?"

"That's one way of putting it," Robbie said, hands covering his face and muffling his voice somewhat.

Sportacus sat down on the bed in front of Robbie. "Then..." His mind immediately went to one occasion, when he'd helped the kids with math homework. "Try explaining it to me."

Parting his fingers, Robbie squinted at Sportacus with a confused look on his face. "What?"

"Try explaining how the magic works to me," Sportacus suggested gently, smiling. "Maybe it'll help you figure it out."

Robbie's hands slowly dropped from his face, and he heaved a sigh. Pursing his lips, he held up his splayed fingers and gestured helplessly at he started to explain, "It's like - well - with alchemy, I think you just - you just find another creature, same kind as whatever you used to make the homunculus, and you put them in the same place and use the fresh one like - like a magnet. To draw out the other one from the homunculus."

"Okay," Sportacus acknowledged with a nod.

Robbie's frown deepened. "But that's - you have all kinds of transmutation shit around to  _help_ with that. Chalk circles and chemicals and magic I don't  _get._ Fairies don't  _do_ chemistry. And even - even if I  _could_ figure out all the chemical bullshit, we don't  _have_ another base animal to work with! We just have _them_ and they don't - they don't  _have_ extra versions of themselves sitting around-"

Sportacus reached out and grasped Robbie's flailing hands, squeezing softly as he said, "Forget the animals and the chemistry. Tell me how you think the actual _deconstruction_ works." 

Visibly gritting his teeth, Robbie stared off into space, breathing slowly to compose himself. Sportacus noticed his eyes seemed to glaze over slightly purple. "It... it's like sieving sand out of water, except you have to glue  _all_ that sand back together into something whole afterwards," he muttered. "You have to get  _every_ piece and cut it out and it - you can't leave  _anything._ That's - that's why you  _need_ the reference, you have to visualize the magic  _perfectly_ or else you're just going to end up with two halves of a homunculus that are both fucked up and dying and-"

"Robbie," Sportacus urged, "focus on the separation. How do you think it would work? Don't think about how a homunculus would work, think about  _them."_

"I don't  _know_ _-"_

"Robbie, you're smart," Sportacus said with absolute sincerity. "You're not dealing with some base animal, so don't think of it like that. Focus on their real center. Focus on  _her_."

Robbie froze.

"Focus on your mother," Sportacus murmured.

Slowly, Robbie's eyes closed. Sportacus felt his hands stop trembling as he drew in a long, deep breath.

"...not the shape of her," Robbie said slowly. "Just...  _her._ What - what she was like. What I remember, at least."

"Good," Sportacus breathed, "that's good, Robbie. What else?"

Robbie's nose twitched. "...not cutting her out, either." His lips squished into a half-frown, half-sneer, and his eyes opened again. "Calling? Pulling? I don't know, but not - not magic that's - sharp?? And not something that's supposed to - to _reduce_ them, more like - _reorganize."_  He gave Sportacus a helpless look."That doesn't make any sense, does it??"

Sportacus shrugged. "It... it does. A bit. I think it's more important if  _you_ understand it." 

Robbie hung his head and muttered something under his breath in fae speech. Slowly lifting his head to look at Sportacus, he pinched his mouth and complained, "All this - this  _thinking_ is making my head hurt and that's all making my back hurt  _worse."_

Sportacus could hear a tentative question hidden in Robbie's complaint. "Would a massage help?" he suggested with a slight grin, not sure if he'd overstepped a boundary or not. He still wasn't sure what they 'were' yet - more than friends, clearly, but they hadn't exactly gotten a chance to properly discuss what had happened that night. 

To Sportacus's relief, Robbie nodded. "Sure. Why not." Shifting through the blankets, he turned away from the wall, facing his back towards Sportacus, wings and all, more trusting than Sportacus would've ever expected, but he wasn't about to complain.

Robbie's wings glittered in the light as Sportacus pressed his hands down around them, rubbing in slow circles, listening to the hum of the engines and Robbie's breathing, and in minutes his mind left the monster behind entirely.

 

* * *

 

A part of Loftskip wanted to urge Sportacus and Robbie to continue studying, continue  _learning,_ continue honing their magic and practicing for an inevitable confrontation. However, her sensors did acknowledge that their respective stress levels dropped considerably as soon as they stopped thinking about magic and the monster, and instead turned to small talk and back massages.

Their conversations meandered between somewhat-fond recollections of past encounters - plots of Robbie's, the inherent absurdity of Sportacus's heroic antics, their few shared pleasant experiences on behalf of the children - and altogether, they did a fantastic job of avoiding any real thoughtful discussion of anything in the ballpark of  _feelings._ Because heaven forbid they actually have a  _mild_ conversation of such things, there weren't nearly enough  _tears_ for that yet.

Loftskip considered prompting them to discuss their mutual attraction, now that they were equally more clear-headed about the matter.

Her computers dutifully reminded her that the  _last_ time she'd tried to give an elf relationship advice, he'd stolen the balloon and fled to Iceland for two months to avoid talking to her. Only about two dozen letters from Sportacus had managed to summon an extremely surly Íþró back to the airship, and Loftskip had given up on trying to talk to him about Glanni. 

So, for the moment, Loftskip refrained from nosing into their personal business.

She only patiently listened, and watched, and dimmed the airship lights when Robbie and Sportacus fell asleep together on the bed.

 

* * *

 

_Up up up up **up-**_

_Should we - should we **wait-**_

**NO-**

_**Waited long enough, wings - wings - we promised-** _

 

.

.  
.  
.̵̡̦̪̺͈̰͖̬̔̇̉̊͜͝.̷̻͇͖̘͈̦̫̈́̔̔̓̉.̢̭̰̥̟͙͑͂̾́͛w̗̗̮͎̍̿̌̅̽͟h̷̢̬̺̲̦͋̾̿̇͊̀̈̕͟͢ͅa̡̪̱̮̰͇͉̽͒̏́͊̇̀̔̀̐t̴̢̛̞͇̻͎̗̻̓͆̋̄̒̋̂̓ p̴̡̨̧͕̹̱͉͔̓͗̑̈́̓̌͊͠͞r̵̛̛͎̻͍̼͉̐̎̏͌̇̎̊̓͢͟ơ̡̺̼͕̺͍̜͍͓̒͐̕͞m̡̡̪̼̺͍̗̑͗͗͂̌̽͗͠i̹͉̯̰̖̾͊͛͊́̄s̠̲͙̘̘͍̼̼̐̇̂͒͌̔̉͂͟͞ę̴̣͖͕̹͍̙͖̏̓̀̂̾?̡̩͇̘̞̈́̎̉͊̂̂̓  
.  
.

.

Their hands scraped against the walls.

_Up. Up. Up._

_We **promised.**_

_Find them find them **find them.**_

 

 

* * *

 

Sportacus woke up to yet more snoring. His eyes slowly opened to find Robbie still asleep, one arm draped lazily over Sportacus's shoulders. He couldn't so much as remember when they'd fallen asleep, considering they were still in the same clothes from the last two days, and they were equally a mess that could probably use a shower at some point.

Sitting up and gently removing Robbie's arm, Sportacus blinked at the ship's windows, and the sunlight streaming through and painting the ship a distinct, vivid shade of orange.

"Ship?"

_"Yes, Sportacus?"_

"What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes blearily.

_"Just before 6 A.M. I am surprised you are awake."_

Sportacus shrugged halfheartedly. At this point his sleep schedule was so screwed up he could barely remember more than a few hours of the last few days. Maybe after the monster was dealt with, he could try and regain some sense of normalcy, but for now, he supposed he had to get used to feeling dead tired all the time, and seeing dark circles under his eyes any time he looked in a mirror.

Still, he didn't mind  _this_ particular sunrise. The orange caught in Robbie's wings and glittered against the purple with a shimmer Sportacus hadn't seen since they first emerged from his back.

Glancing up at the ceiling, Sportacus asked slowly, "Ship... did you find out anything else while we were asleep?"

It took her a moment to answer.  _"Not much more than what I knew and discussed with you before. There are distressingly few reliable accounts of Queenscourt Seelies, and no accounts whatsoever of Queenscourt fae bearing half-human children,"_ she said quietly.  _"I am not sure what to expect from any of this. I can only hope Robbie's personal research was more fruitful."_

Sportacus's hand curled into a fist on the bed. Overhead, Loftskip asked,  _"Did you get to practice the charms much yesterday?"_

He flexed his fingers. "...a bit. I still know how to do them, it's just..."

 _"You cannot know if they will be strong enough to hold a creature like them,"_ Loftskip finished softly for him.  _"I am so sorry you must go through this, litla hetja. You and Robbie both."_

Sportacus chewed the inside of his mouth and sighed quietly. "I think he has it worse," he mumbled under his breath.

_"Objectively speaking, it is the opposite. He at least has reclaimed his wings. You have still not so much as looked at your crystal since that night."_

Gritting his teeth, Sportacus stared into space, gaze falling somewhere in the sky outside the windows. "I can't - I can't risk it, ship. If it takes me again..."

_"How do you know it still has a connection in the crystal?"_

"How do you know it doesn't??" he retorted.

Loftskip said nothing for a moment. Sportacus almost hoped she'd let the subject drop, but instead she murmured,  _"I understand. All the same, please at least... consider your crystal. I have tried my best to reach it, but all I hear are its cries. I do not think I can do anything to help it. That duty lies solely on you."_

He heard its cries, too.

He just didn't know if they were real or not. 

"We can deal with the monster first," he said hollowly. "Then I'll know for sure they aren't... trying to take me back."

_"If that is your choice, I will respect it. However-"_

Her words cut off sharply. Sportacus expected her to continue with some sternly-worded advice, but when the silence persisted, he shot the ceiling a confused look. As he started to open his mouth to speak, the ship's engines surged with a loud rattle, and he felt them pick up speed. Somehow the sudden movement wasn't enough to wake Robbie just yet, but it put all of Sportacus's senses on alert.

"Ship?" he called. "Ship, what's wrong??"

 _"Wake Robbie,"_ her voice suddenly came over the speakers.  _"Wake him **now."**_

Without questioning the dark change to her tone, Sportacus turned to Robbie and started shaking him by the shoulders. "Robbie - Robbie, wake up!"

There was a snort, and then a cough, and then Robbie's eyes shot open hazily. "Wha - what?? What's-" He sat up with a groan, rubbing his shoulders and giving Sportacus and the harsh orange sunlight a strange look. "Fuck, how early is it??"

The hum of the ship's engines grew louder, and Loftskip's voice echoed,  _"We have a dire problem."_

Robbie's expression sobered immediately, and Sportacus saw his hand shake just a little bit. "What??"

_"My sensors spotted them. They are on the surface."_

Sportacus and Robbie's eyes both snapped to the ship windows, and the all too vivid sunlight. "Wait,  _now?!"_ Robbie squawked. 

_"Yes. **Now**."_

"Where-" Sportacus started to ask, hoping that maybe Loftskip just meant Robbie's house, or the woods, or  _somewhere_ where there weren't people-

_"They emerged beside the maple two minutes ago and they have not left the area."_

Sportacus's entire body went cold, and he saw Robbie's face pale.

The ship dropped out of the sky, and dropped  _fast._

 _"We have at most an hour before anyone in Lazytown wakes and comes to this part of town,"_ Loftskip said with an inflection that sounded all too much like a wary snarl.  _"Whatever you two have learned, put it to use. This may be our only chance."_

The ship groaned and lurched again as it impacted with the ground just outside Lazytown's outermost buildings. The door slid open with a hiss, and Robbie met Sportacus's eyes with raw terror.

Light streamed through the windows as the sun climbed dangerously higher in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Maybe I should just let them talk a bit more and do some magic and rest and have Robbie admiring Sport's ass a bit-WELP OK I GUESS THE MONSTER'S BACK NVM TIME TO LOSE WHATEVER CHILL THIS STORY HAD"
> 
> In advance, I refuse to apologize for what is about to happen.
> 
> I have a feeling these chapters are going to be on the shorter side in general, which will prolly mean there will be plenty more of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slam dunks my emotions down into the sewer* HERE WE GO

"It can't be out in the  _daylight!!"_ Robbie shrieked as soon as the airship came to a rough landing just outside Lazytown. Springing up from the bed, his wings flicked out behind him, fluttering nervously as he ran both hands through his hair and stared at the open airship door like the monster was about to come charging through it at any second. "They don't - they've  _never-"_

Sportacus grit his teeth. "First time for everything, I guess."

Robbie shot him an aghast look. "How the hell are you  _calm_ right now??"

The gritting worsened, and he worried he might chip a tooth. "I'm not," he forced out, voice strained as he stood from the bed, hands pressed against his sweatpants in an attempt to keep his claws from slipping out on reflex. "Believe me, Robbie, I'm  _not._ But we can't just sit around and do  _nothing,_ people are going to start waking up and if someone comes out and finds the creature..."

He didn't need to finish that sentence. The stiffening of Robbie's posture, and the visible tension in his jaw, told Sportacus that they both had the same fear. Slowly Robbie let his arms fall to his sides - hands still balled into shaking fists - and he fixed a withering glare on the open door. 

"...I don't know if I can _do_ anything," he grated out. "To help them  _or_ stop them."

Sportacus moved around the bed to Robbie's side, and clasped one shivering hand in his own. All at once, the shaking stopped. "We've both had time to heal," he said softly, "and at the very least, we need to  _try."_

Robbie's Adam's Apple bobbed, and he nodded. "...right," he whispered. " _Try."_

Looking up at the ceiling, Sportacus instructed, "Ship, keep an eye on the town." He held out a hand, and his armguards came flying out of a wall compartment. Sliding his sweatshirt sleeves up to his elbow and fitting the armguards into place, he added, "If anyone wakes up and starts heading towards the monster, let me know _immediately,_ or deal with them yourself, if you can."

 _"Good luck,"_ Loftskip murmured.  _"Keep each other safe."_

Robbie pursed his lips as Sportacus said stoically, "We will." Then, neither of them looking much like heroes - Sportacus with his hair a mess, and stitches on the side of his head, and Robbie with his rumpled wings, and both of them with dark circles under their eyes - they bolted out the door into the silent morning to chase down the monster. 

 

* * *

 

_Sun._

Sun was-

**_Hurts._ **

Shuffling around the maple, they tried to stay to the shade, cowering away from the searing sun that they knew - they weren't sure  _how,_ but they  _knew -_ was only going to get worse the longer they stayed on the surface. Their side scraped against the withered bark, now dead and peeling and empty of all the dark green and black that saturated their earliest memories of being -  _this._

They butted their head against the tree trunk.

_Thank you._

**_Thank - why?? Trapped-_ **

**Trapped and it hurt - it hurt - it hurt-**

_Shut up shut up - she was good, she was strong, she kept us-_

The pain made remembering easier, strangely enough. It made the insides of their brains buzz, high-pitched and overflowing with old thoughts, cut through with static and smoke. All of them was  _there,_ but deeper buried, like  _they_ had been, together.

Closer, and yet harder to reach. The colors-

The colors were the key and they didn't know which ones fit  _where._ Just like they didn't know which name went to which voice, which  _thoughts,_ which memories.

There were three. 

That much they  _knew._

Three, and a promise, and-

And-

_Three-_

There was three, and then there was  _together._ There was  _me, you-_

_Us-_

And-

_And-_

Red and blue and black and gold-

.  
.  
**a̴̢̱͍̯̩̟̫̗̠͑̓̊̒̉̽͠ͅṇ̵̰̣̦̼͚̥̉̏̔͗̀d̴͕͕̲̱̹̗̋̈́͋̈͋̓̐-**  
.  
.

-and something in-between.

Something the maple hadn't remembered for them. Something they didn't  _know._

It was either all of them, all at once, or-

**_Can't remember can't remember it HURTS-_ **

**Too much-**

_**I know - I know-** _

A hiss leaked from their teeth.

_Doesn't matter doesn't matter-_

Purple and Sky-Blue.

 _That_ mattered.

They circled the maple again and strained to see the sky through the black spots clouding their vision, and strained to hear through the dull  _thump-thump_ murmur that was half in their hearts, and half in the ground. 

**_We promised._ **

_We promised._

 

* * *

 

It took Robbie ten minutes of restless, wary jogging to get nervous enough to break the silence. Coincidentally, it took him almost that exact amount of time to notice that, despite Sportacus seeming like the more stable of the two of them, the elf's fingers were trembling as he practically pounced from ground to gate to wall, eyes narrowed at the streets around them. 

Robbie skidded to a halt, heaving for breath. "Sportastupid, slow down," he wheezed.

Sportacus perched atop a wall, arms resting on top of his knees. He swept his gaze over the quiet buildings, immersed in long morning shadows, with a shrewd attentiveness Robbie was more used to seeing in the local stray cats. The position and the demeanor might have been more intimidating, were it not for the fact that Sportacus was still wearing sweatpants and a pale blue hoodie, and not his-

His usual-

Robbie's eyes went wide. "Oh, _fuck_."

Sportacus finally looked his way, brow furrowed. "What?"

Robbie pointed at Sportacus's chest. "Your - you didn't bring your _crystal_."

He noticed how Sportacus's hand immediately went to his chest, but he averted his gaze from Robbie, looking towards the center of town instead. "I'm aware," the elf said tonelessly, and even Robbie could tell how forced that calm was. "I can't - I can't risk it, Robbie."

Robbie folded his arms across his chest. "I  _stole_ your crystal once, remember?? You were  _useless."_

"I can still use my magic." Sportacus hopped down from the wall and resumed walking, and when he didn't stop, Robbie hurried to catch up to him. "I don't know if the creature still has a hold on the crystal. The last thing we need is it taking control of me again, especially now."

"Your ship said crystals are like fae wings," Robbie pointed out. "You're not -  _whole."_ Which, in hindsight, meant him stealing Sportacus's crystal was  _really shitty,_ but there was no point in arguing about that now. As he mentioned wings, he felt his own tense up, and the sensation was like pins and needles in between his shoulder blades. "Are you  _sure-"_

"I'm sure, Robbie," Sportacus interrupted. "Besides, I'm not the one who's going to be...  _fixing_ them."

" _Trying_ to fix them," Robbie corrected. "If we even  _get_ that far. I'm pretty damn sure it's still going to try and kill us."

"Robbie, they don't want to-"

He waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, I heard you the first time. But whether they  _want_ to or not, they're still dangerous. So maybe we should just - I don't know, worry about making sure they're  _less_ dangerous before we even consider fixing whatever the hell happened to them." Stepping up to the elf, Robbie planted a finger on Sportacus's chest pointedly. "And  _I'm_ not the one with the binding charms."

Sportacus bit his lower lip. "...point taken. But I'm still not using my crystal."

Robbie's nose twitched. "Yeah, I figured," he muttered. "Too late to go back and get it, anywaaa-" Before he could get the rest of the sentence out, Sportacus reached out suddenly and clamped his hand over Robbie's mouth, dragging him to the left and ducking behind a wall. Robbie let out a muffled yelp, but the frigid look Sportacus leveled him with made Robbie go silent again, and as he looked around - finally  _looking_ at their surroundings - he felt the temperature plummet.

He hadn't realized they were so close to the maple. The tree was still at least a block away, on the other side of the park, but-

The sound was faint, but Robbie's ears latched onto it all the same.

Scraping. And heavy, uneven footfalls. And a series of low breaths that wheezed like air through a busted flute. 

Sportacus gestured around the wall, mouthing,  _monster._

Robbie did his best to give him a look that conveyed  _no shit, genius,_ but he had a feeling he ended up looking absolutely terrified instead. Shakily reaching up and prying Sportacus's palm off of his face, Robbie whispered, "What do we do??"

The elf's eyes narrowed, and he pressed up against the wall, shifting onto his knees and just barely peeking around the corner. He pulled back after only a half a second of looking, and said in the same near-silent voice, "It's... they're not looking this way. They're just... pacing." 

It didn't escape Robbie's notice that Sportacus had gone pale as a sheet since spotting the monster. He was doing an admirable job of not freezing up in a panic, but the strained control of his breaths and the obvious unsheathing of his claws told Robbie that his elf was probably at least twice as unprepared to face down the monster again as Robbie was. 

In fact, Robbie wasn't even sure if Sportacus would be able to go out and face the monster again, if he was the one who had to take the first step.

And they didn't have much time to procrastinate, before some civilian - probably a child - wandered over to the park. And Robbie certainly couldn't count on the monster just going back into the sewer. If it -  _they -_ had forced themselves into the daylight, then they were probably intending to stay for a good, long while. If they were even thinking at all.

Maybe they'd just gone completely mad. It wouldn't surprise Robbie too much, in that case. 

But.

_But._

On the off chance they  _weren't_ mad...

Crystal or no, possession or no, they'd already shown themselves to be willing to hurt Sportacus. Robbie's leg twinged, reminding him that he hadn't exactly emerged unscathed, but he forced himself to ignore it, sucked in a nervous breath, and stood up from behind the wall.

Sportacus's arm snapped out to grab at Robbie's leg, but for once, the elf was just a bit too slow. "Robbie-!" he hissed.

Robbie held out a hand. "Stay put," he whispered, " _please."_

As Sportacus stared at him with increasing horror, Robbie stepped out from behind the wall, out into the middle of the street, and sure enough, just around the corner in a two-road intersection, in the shadow of another small tree, was the hulking, misshapen form of the monster. The crystal on their back glowed like fresh blood in the sunlight, and without the cover of darkness, every inch of their body was bare for observation.

It made Robbie sick to his stomach, to see in full the lumps of stone and moss, and the patches of sickly skin in between, and the tiny cuts that riddled their arms and legs. Rebar crusted with old, dried blood stuck through their back and sides, and at least one arm.

On their back, beside the crystal, a single wing fluttered feebly. Robbie thought he could see the edge of the other wing -  _Glanni's wing -_ poking out from beneath the moss, but he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure about _anything_ \- where one of them began and ended, or how much of any single part was still left inside the wheezing, growling whole.

Hunched over on the street, leg aching and back aching and heart pounding in his throat, Robbie narrowed his eyes at the creature's back and clapped his hands once.

At the sound, the front of their body whipped around, and their head reared into view. 

Even though it was coated in mud and foul sewage and was half hidden behind hair and misplaced teeth and too-large eyes, Robbie knew her face. He may have forgotten it for a little while, and even now he still couldn't quite remember what she was  _supposed_ to look like, but he  _knew._

Their head cocked to the side, staring him down, and he stared right back.

They let out a low, rolling snarl, and began moving closer, half limping, half dragging their immense mass. In the corner of his eye Robbie could see Sportacus crouching, like a cat about to pounce. His hand felt just a bit cold, longing for the warmth of the elf's palm, but he clenched his fist and steeled himself as the monster crept closer, limbs twitching and teeth bared.

He wasn't sure what the next step of his plan was, if he even had a plan.

But it was too late to turn back now.

 

* * *

 

The clapping was  _so loud._

**_Sound-_ **

**Threat threat danger threat-**

_KEEP-AWAY-_

They turned, and their vision filled with Purple. Their heartbeat stuttered in triple at the sight, the strange mirage before them that  _couldn't_ be true and real and _there._ They hadn't gotten to try again, so how-

_How-_

**_How-_ **

They limped forward, eyes narrowing at the figure, the Purple, the  _Sweetheart._ A part of them supplied the notion, the  _truth,_ that where the Purple went, the Sky-Blue was not far behind. Somewhere near would be claws and bolder sunlight and a voice screaming in their head to  _stop._

They focused on the Purple.

The Purple was stronger, but that couldn't be. They hadn't  _done_ anything yet, hadn't gotten to try again. They lurched forward, unsteady, all attention on the hunched silhouette, and even as the sun burned their eyes, they could see. Bright and rumpled at the edges, but there all the same, huge and perfect and right where they should be.

The Promise.

 _They_ hadn't gotten to keep it, but it was somehow  _kept_ all the same.

_We promised-_

**_We promised-_ **

**You promised-**

It was impossible and yet-

The promise had been kept, and Sweetheart had his wings again.

 

* * *

 

 

.  
**.**  
**ẃ̤͕̭͉̟̦̮̝͍̐̈̍͌̉̾͘̕͜͝i̵̮̫̞̙̬̥͋̓̐̔̾̈͛̑͠ṅ̴̥̱̩͉̜̪̓͐̑̔g̞͈͚̦̳̃̓̿́͂͋̽͘͡ş̝̘̪̪̪̔͌̅͛͗͌͛̂̾͜͢͢͢?̷͇͚̰̦̩̜̆͛̃͗̔̾̓͢͝͡ͅ**  
**̵̨̯͕͕͓̤̜̋͑̃̌͂̇͌**  
**̸̨͕̼̮̦̝̤͂̇̋͑̆̀͘ͅẇ̶̢͙̦͚̝͂̊͛͒̍̚͢͡h̴̰͚̫̞̺̫̅̈͛͒͌́ȧ̶̛̭̩̪͉̙̭̩̤͂̔̂̈́̃͟͢t̨̹̠͎̳̏̂̒̍͌͗̌ á̴̧̛̱̗͈̣̟͚͓̏̌̍͐̽̾̚͟ŕ̛̫͇͙̗̳͚͇͙̣̉̏̿̈͢e̢̺͙̠̗̗͔͛̄̎̉̂̊̔̕͟ w̸̧͕̠̙̘̮̽̈́̒͐̎͑̑̈̽͜͡i̢͙̞̱̲̱̓͐̋̉̒́͘n̛̞̗̱̳̭̐̉͒̐̒͆͆g̨̦̝̬͕͇̲̰̘̃̿͗͒̆̃̕s̸̡̼̯̣̘̫̺̹̃͂̀̊̏́́́?̢̝̰͈̮͎͗͐̄̉̏̌̎͛͘**  
**̴̢̨̼̯͎̺̱̬͍̔̉̎̇͑͋̂͊͘**  
**̧̢̡̛̠̦͎͐̈́̏̆̀̕w̧̢̡̦̖̭͕̪̌̿͋̓͒̚͝͠ȟ̛̘̟̪̠̗̏̌͛͛̾̃̕͝ȧ̷͓̫̬̺͕͎̮̺̦̑̏͆̾̚ț̛͕̫̟͈͖̈͐̈̕͝ i̡̜̲̰̥̼̥̞̯̔͛̽͌̏̓̂ͅş͔̳͇͔͉͉̰͂̋͆͐̚͝͞ͅ a̸͍̫̠͔̩͆̊̒͊̈́͢ s̸̢̤̩͉͚̟͈̍̽̍̌͢͢͟͝͞ẃ̩̪̝͎̠̖̞̩͎̾͛̂͐͊̾̚ͅȩ̭͈̪̪̤̝̝̓̒̆̑̅̽̑͘͜e̶̱̞͚̝̺̲͓̹͉̞̔̃̅͂̈͂̅̏ẗ̨̧̰̞͕̹͉́͌͒̽͗̈̈́͘̕͠ ḩ̪̣̰̝̪̮̫̓̐͛̈̅́̓̐̾͘ȅ̼̯̳̫̤͇̣̓̊̕͡a̸̼̼̼̜̺͍̞̥̓̎̃͐̋͂͊̍͢͠ṛ̨͚̩͇̌̌͗̊̏̄̐̂͠ţ̶̝̬̱͙̳̯̪̤͛̌́͛̆̕?̤͖͕͓̬͋̏́̐͂͡**  
.  
.

 

* * *

 

When the creature's breathing changed, becoming sharper-pitched, like a shrill cry, Sportacus finally forced his legs to  _move,_ and sprang out from behind the wall, anticipating - well, anything but what was in front of him, really.

He'd expected growling and maybe frothing at the mouth, and his aura was braced for any magical attack, but nothing came.

He slowly stepped around Robbie, circling warily as the creature came closer, mouth gaping with heavy breaths and eyes transfixed on Robbie.

Or-

Not Robbie, Sportacus realized with a lurch to his stomach.

Robbie's wings.

The monster's eyes were locked onto Robbie's wings, bold and shining in the sunlight.

 

* * *

 

Every muscle in Robbie's body fought him as he took a single step towards the creature, slowly lifting both arms out, trying to make himself seem as nonthreatening as possible.

The creature flinched as he moved, moss shifting on its back like an animal's hackles raising.

Desperately finding his voice, Robbie called quietly, "We're not - we're not going to hurt you!"

The creature regarded him with narrowed eyes, still not quite looking at  _him,_ but more  _around_ him. By now it stood all of ten feet away, towering half-again Robbie's height, swaying side to side unsteadily. 

His brain raced through everything Sportacus had told him, about when the creature had been possessing him.

_They're sad._

_They're scared._

_They remember your wings._

Robbie lifted his wings a bit higher on his back, fluttering them slowly.

The creature went still.

"Robbie," Sportacus's voice suddenly came from over his shoulder, "be careful."

Robbie nodded slowly. "I know. I know."

He kept his wings out, and took another step forward. This time, the creature didn't flinch, and stayed put in the street, letting Robbie come to them as they stared at his wings, almost hypnotized.

Ten feet. Seven feet. Five feet.

Three.

Another step, and the creature was within arm's reach.

"You remember me, don't you?" Robbie murmured hollowly, trying not to choke against the smell.

_It's her face. It's his wings. It's **them.**_

Robbie forced himself to forget the pain the monster had dealt him and Sportacus and the town - injured legs and broken crystals and nightmares - and remembered a mother, and a criminal, and an elf hero, instead.

"You remember us," he told them, hoping against hope that he was right.

Finally, the creature moved. His barely-there wards leaped to attention, worrying about claws and teeth, but Robbie kept his arms out and his wings flared. The creature bent their head forward, into Robbie's outstretched, shaking palm, and it took all of his self-control not to recoil in revulsion as their clammy, sap-sticky skin touched his. 

It took even more control not to break down when the creature's eyes found their way to his face, and he felt a tremble run through their body.

 _"Shhccaweethaaarr,"_ they croaked slowly. 

Robbie's heart skipped a horrified beat, and the creature hunched over in front of him, whole body visibly shivering, shedding tiny stones and dirt and decaying plant matter all over the street. Its breaths came ragged, and the rancid smell from its mouth almost made Robbie want to retch, but worse by far - worse than the stench and the sight of their malformed limbs and the memory of how deeply their claws could cut - was the sight of golden eyes, ones he thought were bereft of all identity, slowly closing as the creature pressed its cheek into his hand. 

He felt something wet against his palm, and he heard Sportacus utter the faintest gasp.

Robbie's ears began to ring.

 _"Sssschchweaathaaarr,"_ they rasped again, and finally he understood what they were trying to say.

The creature's mismatched eyes squeezed shut, and their rasping breaths turned into a long, keening whine.

Robbie felt his throat and cheeks and eyes start burning.

This wasn't how he imagined it would be. Not how he imagined it at  _all._

The creature's head pressed harder into his hand, trembling violently, and all their limbs went still.

Viscous tears full of dirt and flecks of blood began streaming down their face.

 

* * *

 

 _Swe **etheart** weare **sosorry**_ **sosorryfor** _everythingwedid-_

 

* * *

 

Sportacus's heart choked in his throat.

The monster - Robbie's mother, Glanni, his cousin - all of them, together-

The sound was different, raspy and rough and like three voices blended together, but he knew it all the same.

He knew the sound of weeping.

His claws pulled back into his fingers, and he closed the distance between him and Robbie, still wary as he approached. The monster's body trembled with every hoarse sob that wrenched from its too-many mouths, and as Sportacus circled to the right, Robbie turned his head to look at him, and Sportacus saw tears pricking at the edge's of the half-fae's eyes.

"She - she used to call me sweetheart," Robbie whispered. 

Sportacus nodded, remembering the sewers, and he barely managed a faint, "I know."

Robbie lifted the one hand not pressed against the creature's face, and the fingertips began sparkling with purple flecks of light. The creature didn't seem to notice yet, and Robbie said, "You should - you should start trying to bind them. If this - if this works, I think it's going to hurt. A lot."

Sportacus nodded and slowly flanked the creature, mumbling elvish and Icelandic words for binding charms under his breath. A feeling like a vise crept up his forearms, tight and numb, almost seeming to cut off circulation in his hands, but he knew it was only a phantom pain, a tell that the magic was working. Stretching his arms out toward the creature's body, he met Robbie's eyes again and warned, "If they panic when I do this, run."

"Fine, just hurry up already."

Biting the inside of his lip, Sportacus narrowed his eyes, let the energy flow through his hands, and pressed his palms into the monster's side.

_"Dvöl."_

 

* * *

 

The moment Sportacus touched the creature, they let out a sharp whine, and Robbie frantically snuffed out the magic in his hand and cupped both hands around the creature's face. This put his left hand dangerously close to the mouth that seemed to go over onto the creature's neck, but he couldn't think about that at the moment. All he could do was desperately tell them, "He's not trying to hurt you! We're trying to  _help,_ you just - you just need to let us help, just calm down,  _please."_

He tried fluttering his wings again, and it seemed to work for the time being. The creature's eyes listlessly fell upon the space above his shoulders, and Robbie breathed a sigh of uneasy relief.

His wards informed him of a wave of magic, slowly ghosting over the creature's body. As it passed, he noticed the monster's limbs seemed to seize, and they almost stopped moving entirely. Their sides still heaved with every breath, and even the binding charm couldn't stop the trembling, but at least it didn't seem as if they could lunge and attack without first breaking through Sportacus's spell.

Good.

One step down.

Who knew how many left to go.

Still cupping their face -  _her face -_ Robbie closed his eyes and blinked away what few tears were trying to fall down his cheeks. He could break down later, he needed to focus right now.

How was he supposed to make them understand what he was trying to do? How could he-

Robbie's chest tightened.

"...you promised to bring back my wings, right?" he tried.

For a harrowing moment, nothing happened.

Then, the creature nodded. Just enough to let him know it was deliberate, and not a byproduct of their trembling.

"Okay," Robbie breathed, hoping they would comprehend what he said next. "I'm going - I'm going to try and get you out. All three of you. I... don't know if it'll work, but I'm going to try. I promise."

Their eyes went to  _him_ for the very first time, and it sent a cold shiver down his spine. 

"I promise," he repeated.

They nodded again, tears still slick against Robbie's palms.

Firming his jaw, he closed his eyes, and the magic began to take shape again in his fingertips.

 

* * *

 

A new promise.

This one was not  _theirs,_ and if it wasn't theirs, could they even  _trust_ it-

_Yes._

**_Yes._ **

_Sweetheart. Trust sweetheart._

**Trust Lítilblá too.**

_Trus_ _**tint** _ **heirprom _ise._**

They felt the foreign magic, sharp and dull and everywhere and nowhere, and they let it find a home inside them.

 

* * *

 

Robbie breathed in deep, let the magic flow through his fingertips and palms into their skin, and his mind went to  _her._

_No chalk circles._

_No doubles._

Just her. 

_Hot cocoa._

_Purple blanket._

_Gold._

_The Rules._

Her hand on his back, rubbing small circles between his new wings, even as the veins in her arms were blackened from magic. The way she never quite seemed to smile, even at him, but she always held his hand, and sang him to sleep at night. How she moved without a sound, and people never quite seemed to look at her, unless she wanted them to.

How she was so much like a fairy, with her Rules, but so much like a mother, with her worries.

How she changed, for Robbie. For Glanni. For family.

The magic cut deep. He felt it seeping through the monster's skin, weaving through the scar tissue and moss, all the way down to her bones. Keeping her image in mind, Robbie opened his eyes and blinked twice, and in a half second he couldn't see the monster anymore. All he could see was a writhing storm of red, blue, black, and gold.

He whispered the fae word for  _gold_ and  _black_ over and over and over, calling it to him.

_I'm here._

_Trust me._

The gold shifted towards the nervous purple edging into the monster's aura, and he heard a sharp, pained hiss echo from between the monster's jaws. Ignoring the sound of their pain, he wove his aura deeper into theirs, finding the gold and the black, and always thinking of her.

_Birthday ice cream._

_Candles in the dark._

The creature's grunts and whines were deafening, amplified by his aura sense, but Robbie grit his teeth and  _focused._

Not just the good.

He needed the bad, too.

All of it. All of her.

_The sound of her scream._

_The shifting of her bones under her jet-black skin, when she was mostly Seelie, and only a little bit his mother._

His hands moved instinctively from the monster's face, pushing into the thick moss and folds of roots around the neck, where shoulders ought to be. Feeling through the damp, sticky, blood-soaked dirt, he found flesh and skin, and gripped it tight.

_Her fury, golden and wild and enormous as a forest._

Robbie tugged something that might've been an arm, and the creature's whines turned to a howl. He could feel them starting to thrash, fighting against his touch, but Sportacus's binding charm held. For the moment.

He wanted to hurry, but he couldn't rush. Not now. If he did that, he might miss something, leave a piece behind, or he might fail entirely.

_Her caution. 'Never, never, never.'_

_Never let them find your dreams._

_Never go near the trees._

_Never trust an elf._

The monster screamed, and Robbie pulled harder, feeling moss slip around his arms, all the way up to his elbows. The aura sight was blotting out the details, but he could just make out the creature's face changing. His magic, every shade of purple, wrapped around the front of the creature like a cocoon, almost blinding. He could hear things plopping to the ground - chunks of stone, globules of mud and blood - but it was all white noise.

_Her frustration with Glanni._

_Her protectiveness of Robbie._

_The way she would stand at the window and stare towards the Court forest for hours, when she thought Robbie was already asleep._

_How she would fly up to the roof in the dark of night and stare at the stars, and the constellations would almost seem to dance for her as her whole body glowed._

_Wisps and yarn and wards._

_A lullaby in an orange chair._

All of her.

All of her.

Robbie blinked tears from his eyes, heard something like the sound of wet paper tearing, and the monster's screams stopped.

He gave one last heaving pull, and moss came crumbling down onto him. Sinking to his knees on the ground, Robbie felt a thud pulse through his entire body, a concussive wave like a half dozen subwoofers, or maybe a small earthquake. He could feel blood trickling out of his ringing ears as the pulse faded, and as his vision cleared, he found himself holding a huge lump of dirt and moss, and the part of the monster that used to be its head and front legs was just... gone.

Then the lump in his arms began to move.

 

* * *

 

Most of Sportacus's focus was in maintaining the binding charms, but he was still able to afford just a little bit of attention to Robbie, and what he witnessed was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

As the monster's body shuddered, and its whines reached a screaming pitch, Sportacus watched Robbie's arms sink into the moss and dirt around the monster's neck. Robbie's aura, flickering purple, surrounded his whole body, blinding where it met the monster, and Sportacus didn't even need to use his aura sense to see it. The magic was  _there,_ plain as day, and strong enough to make his own aura react.

The air felt dense, heavy, weighing on Sportacus like a few tons of cement. It was all he could do to keep standing as the atmosphere tightened around him, distorting his vision - but not distorting it  _enough._

He could still see all too clearly as the skin and moss of the monster began to slough away, in folds and sheets like the discarded hide of a tarantula. Viscous liquids spilled over the pavement, and the monster writhed with such force it nearly knocked Sportacus off his feet. Letting out a choked gasp, he squeezed his eyes shut and poured all his energy into the binding charm.

Miraculously, it held, but he could feel his magic waning.

There was only so much he could do without his crystal, and he was near the end of his rope, he could feel it.

Then, all of a sudden, the blinding purple vanished, and the monster went completely still.

When Sportacus opened his eyes again, the front of the creature was  _gone._

Where its head and one of its front limbs had been was a gaping hole, moss and roots overlapping with exposed pinkish flesh, and no shortage of mud and blood oozing out from what would have been a horrific wound on any normal living creature. In a moment of panic, Sportacus feared that the monster was dead, but its remaining limbs still twitched a bit, fingers flexing against the ground, and his palms could still feel the haunting  _thump, thump_ of heartbeats.

At the front of the creature, he could hear Robbie breathing heavily, and when Sportacus looked over to him, he found Robbie slumped on the ground, wings limp, holding a vaguely person-shaped lump of dirt and moss.

Sportacus's heart skipped a beat. For a terrifying second, he couldn't tell if it'd worked or not, but-

Slowly, the shape in Robbie's arms began to move.

 

* * *

 

Robbie  _thought_ that the slow movement at the beginning meant the figure would  _keep_ moving slowly.

However, as soon as he straightened up, ears ringing and every nerve firing off with a mix of panic and frantic hope, the figure thrashed away from him, and two arms snapped out towards Robbie's chest, feebly pushing him away. The dirt and moss kept falling, exposing more and more of the figure, who Robbie saw now was very clearly a  _person,_ two arms and two legs, and a head that he now saw was hidden behind a immense rat's nest of long, greasy hair.

The arms that shakily pushed against his chest were bruised and covered in small cuts, and were so thin he could practically see the bones beneath the skin, but they were pale and spotted with freckles, and had no claws, only broken fingernails. 

The figure let out a whimper in a woman's voice, and Robbie's heartbeat roared in his chest.

_Is it-_

_Did I-_

Only when the person started crawling away from him did Robbie snap to his senses and reach out to gently grab their arms. They whined as he did, but he ignored it and croaked out, "It's okay, I'm here! I'm not - I'm not going to hurt you, I promise!"

They kept pushing, and as almost all the dirt fell away from their bruised, emaciated body, Robbie made sure to keep his eyes above the shoulders. The person, naked and covered in dirt and streaks of black mud, shivering on the ground, curled inwards, face still hidden behind their hair.

Despite the mud, Robbie could still tell the hair was golden-brown.

He didn't even try to fight the tears, at this point.

She was still struggling against him, but her movements were feeble, shaky. Keeping a gently grip on one of her wrists, Robbie slowly reached out and parted her hair, fingers grazing her bony cheek.

The eyes that stared at him were wild and pale blue, pupils huge and terrified. Her lips were parted with hoarse, frantic grunts as she tried to pull away from Robbie, shifting away from his hand as he tried to rub the dirt from her gaunt face.

He counted the freckles.

The eyes still stared at him with the same kind of fear as a cornered animal.

"It's me," Robbie whispered, trying not to sob. "Mom, it's  _me._ It's Robbie!"

Her fingers reached out and grabbed his sweater. Her knees pulled up to her chest, and she shook her head, eyes darting in every direction, and she said nothing at all.

"Mom," Robbie croaked.  _"Mom._ It's okay, it's _me_."

She let out a whine. 

Robbie's whole body went cold.

"...mom?" he whispered again, even softer this time, even more broken.

Her only response was the sound of rapid, nasal breaths. Her eyes never quite found his face - they looked everywhere  _but._ They darted between his wings, his hands, the space around him, the remaining husk of the monster behind his back... but not  _him._ Even when she did look, it wasn't with recognition, just a feral reluctance that Robbie had no idea how to  _fix._

He had her back.

But she wasn't  _there._

Her mouth hung open like a fish out of water, gasping for air. Her hand tugged harder on Robbie's sweater as she croaked out sounds that weren't words. 

Robbie slowly pulled her closer, not caring about the dirt and the reeking stench of old blood.

Even if she didn't - even if she didn't see  _Robbie,_ even if she didn't  _know_ him, it was her.

He wrapped his arms around her shaking, withered body.

"I'm here, mom," Robbie murmured, voice cracking. "I'm here."

 

* * *

 

The face was talking, and she didn't know what it was saying.

The hand on her face was trembling and soft and warm, but it was  _wrong._ And the words-

She knew the words. Heard them,  _remembered_ them, but she didn't know what they meant.

The face was-

Was-

 _That_ memory wasn't there, either.

But she  _knew._

_Wrong wrong wrong wrong-_

She was...  _her._ And only her. No second and third heartbeat, no second and third voice, no-

She was here and that meant she wasn't  _there-_

Grunting, she tugged on the sweater, tried to get the face to listen.

If she wasn't  _there,_ if she wasn't helping, thinking,  _keeping-_

_Turn around._

**_Turn around._ **

The crying face and the sweater and the wings wrapped arms around her and whispered soft things she didn't  _know,_ and he didn't  _listen,_ didn't  _look._

_Turn around turn around turn around-_

**_TURN AROUND!!_ **

 

* * *

 

Watching Robbie embrace the woman he'd pulled from the monster made Sportacus's heart ache even worse than it always had, back when he and Robbie had been enemies. 

The woman was a shaking, dirty mess, bone thin with a mass of too-long hair, and Sportacus had never met her before, but he knew.

Ana.

She was free. She was free and safe again and Robbie had her back, and yet...

Something wasn't sitting quite right in Sportacus's mind, and the more he looked at her and Robbie, the more he realized - it was her eyes.

Robbie had his back to Sportacus, arms wrapped around his mother, but Ana's eyes were wide and frantic, staring towards Sportacus. A part of him wondered if she sensed he was an elf, and maybe that was why she was staring towards him with such utter fear, but slowly Sportacus realized it wasn't  _him_ she was looking at.

The air around him grew freezing cold.

She wasn't looking at Sportacus.

She was looking at the monster's husk.

 

* * *

 

They had been screaming, screaming as Purple reached inside them and tugged and  _ripped away_ and then-

No more screaming.

No more gold and black.

_No more gold and black._

No more huge heartbeat, drowning out the others. No more thoughts thundering inside them, keeping the dark and cold at bay. 

The dark and cold came rushing in to fill the void the gold left behind when it was taken.

**_Comebackcomebackcomeback-_ **

Then the screaming began again, as the cold filled them, parasitic and writhing in the place  _she_ had been.

They remembered now.

They remembered the  _pain._

They remembered their names, and the maple, and  _her,_ and the-

And the-

- **PAIN-**

_**yOU-** _

_**-yoU** _ **-**

**-yOu _DIdT_ hiS _TO_ US-**

The cold came rushing in, and their colors screamed against it in a hurricane of blood-red and bruise-blue. **  
**

 

* * *

 

She saw the colors first, bleeding out of the husk, and she felt the rumble in the ground.

She didn't know why, but she clung tighter to the crying thing with his arms around her.

 

* * *

 

Sportacus felt something... _shift_ , beneath his hand.

In hindsight, his crystal probably would've been screaming bloody murder by now, but all he could do was narrow his eyes at the monster's husk in confusion. Maybe the shifting was just its breathing changing, but soon enough he realized the movement was something else entirely.

A shock burst from the skin into Sportacus's hand, arcing up his arm. He let out a sharp hiss, and like an  _idiot,_ pulled both hands away from the monster.

It took him only a split second to realize what he'd done.

A second later, the colors exploded in his face, blinding him with red and blue. Staggering backwards, he stared at the monster's husk in rising panic as his vision cleared, and the moss kept slipping away. The creature's whole body began shaking as his binding spell withered away into nothingness, and a second concussive wave rumbled through the freezing air.

And then-

The dirt crumbled away, and something pushed its way through the moss, and Sportacus's heart leaped into his throat.

Phantom papercuts filled his mouth.

A head pushed through the moss, twisted, deformed jaws parted with a croaking scream. The husk reared back, huge chunks of stone dropping to the street from the wound Ana had left behind when Robbie pulled her free.

Somewhere, distantly, Sportacus heard Ana begin to scream again. A second concussion ripped through the world, and in the corner of his eye Sportacus saw Robbie's whole body tense up, and then go limp, slumping into Ana's lap as she sat stiff on the ground.

Sportacus would've run to Robbie, if he could've, but the monster had every sliver of his attention, and his legs couldn't move. 

The face pushed out of the monster all the way, roots and ropes of flesh and red magic crackling around it.

It was a face Sportacus knew.

Its jaw widened further than any person's should and roared.

From the gaping wound, two more arms suddenly sprouted, long and coated in bark, and on the other side of the body, a second head emerged, shielded by a withered leaf bigger than Sportacus's chest. Twigs and thin filaments of bone and skin twisted from the second face, as too-large eyes with catlike pupils swept over the street. Moss and dirt fell from the creature in huge piles and clusters, leaving only mottled skin and bark-like scabs behind.

Sportacus still couldn't get his legs to move as the monster let out a shrieking howl.

 _"YOU DID THISSS!!"_ two voices screamed, barely recognizable as human or fae or elf.

The body stretched, long and sinewy, and from a vanishing coat of moss, a pair of dark blue wings erupted from bony hips. Another leg emerged, roots growing from the ankle, and then another, facing backwards, dragging along the ground alongside a tail-like growth of dirt and moss and gnarled twigs that twitched like the limbs of a mosquito.

Its skin stretched, and its claws dug into the ground, fingers too long and broken, whole  _body_ too long and too broken, bigger by far than the monster had been before-

Both heads snapped at each other, and two of the new arms folded across the chest, scraping into its own flesh.

Sportacus made the mistake of letting out a high-pitched breath of a scream.

Both heads swiveled towards him on thick, long necks, and only now did Sportacus realize just how close the creature was to him.

A third concussive wave rippled through the air, and with a thunderous  _clap_ the red and blue magic around the monster vanished, leaving it hunched and snarling in the street, eyes fixed on Sportacus. As the wave dissipated, Sportacus felt his whole body grow heavy, drowsy, and he almost collapsed where he stood. 

His claws still slipped out, but the monster was faster.

A hand impacted against Sportacus's chest with the force of a sledgehammer, and he heard at least one rib break as he was sent spinning through the air.

The last thing he felt was the back of his skull cracking against a wall on the opposite side of the street.

 

* * *

 

Robbie heard her scream.

Then he felt the shockwave hit him in between his shoulder blades, and a searing pain filled his head.

There was a roar, and a sound like a clap of thunder-

All the strength fled from his limbs, and he couldn't fight the pull of gravity as he collapsed onto the street. He could still feel his mother's hands tightly gripping his sweater, but everything else was going numb. It took his last lingering shred of energy to turn his head towards the monster, just in time to watch it  _change,_ watch heads and limbs erupt from a twisted body, and-

He saw it smack Sportacus away as if the elf weighed nothing at all.

Then he couldn't see anything.

The world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *weeping* SIX THOUSAND GODDAMN WORDS
> 
> WHY WERE YOU ALL SO DEAD CONVINCED I WAS GONNA TAKE AWAY ROBBIE'S WINGS
> 
> I JUST BROUGHT BACK HIS MOMMA AND SIMULTANEOUSLY MADE THE MONSTER WORSE IN THE PROCESS, GEEZ
> 
> And my god. This chapter just... did NOT want to be written. This is what happens when you try to write multiple things at a time, you get into the headspace of a world with demons and bugbears and smol children and suddenly you find yourself incapable of writing about sewer monsters and fairies and body horror. Plz shower me in delicious screaming comments because i am #Suffering


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look out, major relationship issues on the loose

Loftskip was aware of the shockwave for only three seconds before her computers crashed, and her consciousness was thrown into a black abyss.

By the time the airship came back online, and her consciousness was allowed to emerge from her crystal, all her computers were screaming frantically, playing back the few split seconds of time they had manage to record before shutting down under the force of the magical concussion. The computers played back the passage of the shockwave, sweeping across the entire town. Even now, it left a hollow quiet in its wake, a stillness that clogged her sensors and made her engine stutter at its strangeness.

Loftskip demanded a timestamp from her computers.

They informed her the ship had been offline - and nearly crashed before its purely mechanical autopilot kicked in - for almost an entire hour.

 _Focus,_ Loftskip told herself, as she reoriented her sensors on the part of town where Robbie and Sportacus had stopped to confront the monster. The scans narrowed down on a two block radius around  the maple, and found-

-red and blue.

The whole area was  _blistering_ with the colors. 

Her computers wailed for her attention, and she almost didn't dare examine the data they provided.

The readouts in her CPU were more terrifying than the times when Íþró would disappear for months on end, worse than the letters bouncing back after he disappeared for good, worse than the silence only a week ago when she'd felt something utterly  _wrong_ with Sportacus's crystal, and he hadn't responded to any of her pleas for an explanation, despite the fact that he was clearly alive and well.

This, by far, was worse than all of that, as her sensors presented:

_Admin_SPRCS10 : vit sig critical_

_AUX_Admin_RBBI1 : vit sig critical_

She scanned for the homunculus next. In moments, her computers bounced back errors and conflicting data. The energy was still  _there,_ too close to the fluctuated vital signs of Robbie and Sportacus. It was just... different. Too few colors, and yet those colors seemed stronger now than they had ever been in the past.

There was only one thing her computers agreed upon:

_Homunculus_ANGLIPR : volatile_

Loftskip didn't need her computers to tell her that.

The roar was loud enough that she could hear it in the sky. Her computers offered a hundred strategies, a dozen avenues of attack - all of which would leave Lazytown more damaged than before, and none that could ensure the safety of her two charges. 

_No time. No time._

_Deploying auxiliary mode._

A chamber opened up on the bottom of the ship, and a humanoid shape dropped down towards the ground, impacted on curved metal legs, and sprinted towards the center of town.

 

* * *

 

Stephanie could still hear her uncle snoring when she woke up, which wasn't necessarily a strange thing, especially on Saturdays.

What was more strange was that, after she got dressed and headed towards the kitchen, she realized her uncle's snoring was getting louder. Soon enough, she came to a puzzled halt in the doorway to the kitchen, furrowing her brow at her uncle, who seemed asleep at the breakfast table. A half-eaten croissant and a mug of coffee sat beside him, but Milford was slumped over, face down on the table, snoring contentedly.

Pursing her lips, Stephanie walked over and gently nudged her uncle in the shoulder. "Uncle, were you up late last night again?" 

There was no response, aside from a slight stutter in Milford's snoring. Stephanie frowned and nudged again. "Uncle?"

Still nothing. She nudged a bit harder.

"Uncle Milford, wake up." 

Ten minutes, three more hard nudges, two claps right above the ear, and at last a shove of the entire table later, Milford was still sound asleep, and Stephanie was growing increasingly worried. A few times, she'd seen her uncle's eyelids flutter open for a half a second before closing again, and nothing seemed  _wrong_ with him - his forehead wasn't hot, and his breathing was normal.

He just... wouldn't wake up. 

Stephanie's memory immediately suggested the sugar meltdowns Sportacus sometimes experienced, but her uncle obviously didn't have a problem with sugar, so that train of thought was useful only for getting Stephanie to think of Sportacus. Immediately, she felt a premature sense of relief. Nervously patting her uncle on the shoulder, she said, "Hold on, uncle Milford. I'll get Sportacus, he should know how to help!"

Quickly lacing up her sneakers, Stephanie gave her uncle one last worried glance, and ran out the door into the chilled November morning in search of Lazytown's hero.

 

* * *

 

"Nana?" 

Stingy had checked the third floor hallways, and his hired nanny's room on the second floor, and his play room, but so far he hadn't found the portly old woman who took care of him in his parents' stead. Usually by now she would've brought him breakfast in his room, as she always did on weekends - strawberry shortcake French toast sandwiches were his favorite - but he hadn't heard so much as a peep from the rest of the house.

Finally he dragged himself down to the kitchen, which was spotless as usual, save for a few dishes in the sink from dinner last night.

Pursing his lips, Stingy fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves and called again, "Nana? 

No reply. Maybe she'd gone to the store... no, the keys were still on the rack in the mudroom. Fidgeting nervously, Stingy grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the dining table and wandered out to the living room. The huge chandelier in the middle of the ceiling was ominous as ever, threatening to fall down if Stingy walked underneath it. He carefully made his way around the sofas and headed towards his father's barely-used study, which was full of books and trophies he wasn't allowed to touch.

Stingy took a small bite of the apple and approached the study. It didn't occur to him to question the fact that the door was already slightly ajar, and he peered inside warily, waiting for his father to materialize out of thin air and berate him for trespassing. As Stingy looked throughout the room, his eyes finally fell upon a woman's figure, sitting in his father's chair, slumped over on his desk.

"Nana!" 

The old woman didn't stir. Stingy gingerly stepped into the study, trying to avoid the squeaking floorboards as he tiptoed over to his nanny. In all his life, Stingy had never seen her sleep in the middle of cleaning - she still had her duster and the cleaning solution sitting on a shelf nearby. Even more confusing, he'd never seen her sleeping at his father's desk.

Stingy came up to her side and shook her by the shoulder. "Nana, wake up." 

He expected her to spring awake as soon as he touched her. His nanny was an extremely light sleeper, always coming if he called her in the middle of the night for a glass of water or to soothe him from a nightmare, but after three insistent shakes, she was still asleep, breaths long and deep and completely oblivious to Stingy's increasingly frantic shouting for her to wake up.

"Nana!"

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Stingy's hands began to shake.

This  _never_ happened. 

His rising panic afforded his thoughts only one real conclusion: if all else fails, find Sportacus.

Stingy raced to the mudroom to find his shoes and was out the door in two minutes. 

 

* * *

 

By the time Trixie got to the tiny kitchen in the back of the salon to find her mother passed out next to a sewing machine, her aunt faceplanted on the couch, and her father on the floor beside a spilled jug of milk, she'd already had an awful feeling about the day. It'd started when she'd woken to the sound of a distant rumble, almost like an earthquake, except only in the air and not the ground.

She stared frozen and tight-lipped at the kitchen, hoping her family might all jump up and scream 'surprise' or something obnoxious like that.

When no one moved, she went to her aunt first, shaking her roughly by the shoulder and tugging on one of her braids. "Auntie Mae," she pestered. "Auntie Maaaaaeee. How come you're still asleep?"

No answer. She moved to her mother next, and was met with the same result. 

The fear only became fully realized when Trixie crouched down next to her father, gently snoring on the floor, as milk seeped into his pant leg. The refrigerator door was still open just a crack, and a knocked-over glass on the counter brought to mind a mental image of Trixie's father, in the midst of pouring a glass, only to fall to the floor unconscious for... some reason.

None of them were  _dead,_ they were just... asleep. For some reason.

Trixie clenched her hands, and glanced at the clock, finding it was just after seven in the morning.

Sportacus would probably be up and awake by now, wouldn't he?

She needed to get to the mailbox.

First mopping up the milk on the floor, and dragging her father to rest his head on the couch instead of the kitchen tiles, Trixie bit her lip and cast a worried look over her unconscious family, and ducked out into the morning sun.

 

* * *

 

Each one of Stephanie's footsteps echoed against the surrounding buildings, and with every step, the tight feeling in her throat grew stronger. The long morning shadows seemed to bend around the trees and walls lining the street, and some of them looked like they were reaching for the corners of her eyes.

Lazytown was never this  _still._ Maybe it was just the morning, maybe it was her worry for her uncle, but... she couldn't shake the feeling that something was  _wrong._

Her growing suspicion was only further confirmed when she rounded a corner and collided with a breathless Stingy. The impact nearly knocked Stephanie off her feet, and Stingy  _did_ end up falling on his butt with a loud shriek.

"Stingy??"

"Stephanie?"

Stephanie's brow furrowed. "Stingy, something's wrong-"

"My nana won't wake up!" Stingy blurted out, scrambling to his feet. "She's asleep in my dad's study! She  _never_ sleeps in there, and I couldn't get her to wake up!"

A cold shiver bled down Stephanie's spine. "...my uncle," she whispered. "He - he's like that, too. Asleep on the kitchen table."

Stingy's eyes went wide. "The mayor, too?" he squeaked. 

_"Pinky!!"_

Stephanie and Stingy jumped at the sound of Trixie's familiar shouting voice. Turning towards the sound of approaching footsteps, they saw her sprinting towards them up the street, coming to a skidding halt and planting her hands on her knees. "I gotta," she panted, "find Sportacus - my parents-"

"Are they asleep??" Stephanie interrupted, voice barely louder than a whisper. "And you couldn't wake them up?"

Trixie looked up at Stephanie with a mix of alarm and confusion. "How - how did you know??"

"My uncle's the same," Stephanie whispered, "and Stingy's nana."

Stingy let out a muffled whine. "What - what's going on??" Out of habit, he turned a suspicious glare towards the edge of town that led to the billboard with half a cow painted on it. "Is this like that time Robbie made Sportacus all tired?"

Stephanie shook her head, suddenly remembering her conversation with Sportacus in the grocery store just a few days ago. "No, Robbie's been sick. And... I don't think he's mean anymore. Sportacus was taking care of him."

Trixie gave her a blank look. "Wait, Sportacus is doing what?"

"I saw him at the store, he was buying stuff-"

"For  _Robbie?"_ Stingy echoed doubtfully. 

Stephanie nodded. "I don't - I don't think Robbie did this." As she glanced between her friends, a terrifying thought crossed her mind, and she stiffened with a soft gasp. "Guys, we need to check on Pixel and Ziggy."

"What??" Trixie squawked. "Why?? We need to get Sportacus!"

"If our parents are all... I don't know, knocked out or something," Stephanie said, wringing her hands, "then maybe their parents are, too!"

A nagging doubt in the back of her mind -  _if all the adults are knocked out, what if Sportacus is, too_ \- went unsaid for the time being. Stephanie was pretty sure either one of her friends would come to that same conclusion eventually, if they hadn't already thought about it. So far, the only consistency was that adults were asleep, and kids were awake. If that pattern held, then getting Pixel and Ziggy and making sure they were all awake and safe would be a good first step.

Stingy just kept shifting from foot to foot, mostly looking at the ground and fidgeting with his sleeves. Trixie was noticeably gritting her teeth, and neither of them raised an argument against Stephanie's suggestion. 

Ziggy's house was closest. Stephanie let out a shaky breath and started heading that way.

Her friends followed, and the street's silence threatened to swallow them as they ran.

 

* * *

 

Ziggy was nestled into a cocoon of blankets when he heard the loud banging on his window. 

Sitting bolt upright with a help, hair sticking out at odd angles and one blanket behaving like a large python around his legs, he rubbed his eyes to find three of his friends standing outside his window, smacking the glass and calling his name.

Shuffling over to the window, Ziggy opened it slowly, blinking at the older kids and the blinding sunlight. "...hi?" he croaked, still bleary from sleep. "What's going on?"

"We tried your front door," Stingy said, out of breath for some reason, "and your mom didn't answer-"

"So we came here and you didn't wake up at first," Trixie burst in, "and we thought you were asleep for good-"

"Ziggy, something's wrong," Stephanie said, cutting in above the other two and leaning in the window. Ziggy flinched under her stare - he'd never seen Stephanie looking so worried, not even when Robbie was scheming, not when she lost her diary, not when Sportacus was in a sugar meltdown, not  _ever._ "Our parents are asleep and they won't wake up. Can you check on your mom??"

"...won't wake up?" Ziggy repeated, not quite sure what that was supposed to imply, aside from the fact that everyone was  _really_ tired.

"Can you just check on her??" Trixie exclaimed.

"Okay, okay, I'll check!" Leaving his friends at the window, he hopped down from his bed and sluggishly made his way down the hall to his mother's bedroom. Easing the door open with a creak, Ziggy went to the lump in her bed and poked it tiredly. "Mama? Stephanie and Stingy and Trixie are here. Something's up with their parents."

His mother let out a soft sigh and rolled over in bed, and didn't say anything, or make any indication that she'd woken up.

Frowning, Ziggy crawled onto the bed, pulling the comforter down and squishing his mother's cheek. "Mama?"

When a few more attempts at waking her did nothing, Ziggy dragged himself back to his bedroom, staring at Stephanie with now watering eyes.

"...she won't wake up either," he whispered, eyes wide. "What's going on?"

Stephanie pursed her lips. "...we don't know. We're going to Pixel's house to get him, and then we're going to find Sportacus."

Ziggy bit his lip. "But he's a grownup, too. What if he's also asleep?"

Trixie and Stingy exchanged a wide-eyed glance, and Stephanie only sighed nervously.

"Let's just get Pixel first," she murmured, and Ziggy crawled out through the window, and they set off to collect the last of the town's kids.

None of them said anything along the way.

 

* * *

 

"Pixel!!"

Trixie's voice, and the impact of a small rock against his window, were collectively enough to startle Pixel out of his video game. The character went careening off the map, and as the  _Game Over_ screen flashed at his face, he tugged off his headset and jumped over to the window. Peering down at the street, he squinted at the odd sight of his four friends looking up at him. "Uh. Hi, guys?"

"Pixel, something's wrong with our parents!" Stephanie called up. "They won't wake up! Can you check on your dads??"

Leaning back inside, Pixel cocked his head towards his slightly-open door.

Yep. Two sets of snoring.

"They're still asleep!" he called down. "It's only like, 7:15!"

"Well, can you see if you can wake them up?" Stingy snapped.

Pixel rolled his eyes. He would've gone and done just that, but just as he was about to turn away from the window, a flash of blue between two buildings across the street caught his attention first.

"Guys, do you see that??"

Ziggy's trembling voice called up, "See what?"

Pixel pointed across the street. Four heads below him swiveled as he did. "That! Over there! The blue thing!" It flashed between another set of buildings, pausing just long enough for Pixel to identify it as roughly human-shaped, darting between alleyways.

"Is that Sportacus??" he heard Trixie breathe in relief.

Pixel didn't wait to hear what was said next. He bolted from his room and was down and out the door in a matter of seconds, pausing only briefly beside his parents' bedroom to see that one of his dads had made it halfway out of bed, and was asleep on the floor with a blanket tangled around one leg.

"Is it him??" Pixel asked as he charged out onto the street, slamming the door behind him.

"Where's he going?" Stingy wondered in confusion.

"Come on," Stephanie urged, taking off towards the alley across the street, leading the rest of them in the general direction of the nearby park with the swing set and the old maple.

 

* * *

 

By the time Loftskip realized she was being followed, it was far too late to do anything about it. 

She could only come to a skidding halt in the middle of the street, just around a building, and suppress a low sigh as five pairs of feet followed her. One voice - Stephanie's - began to call out "Sportacus!", but halfway through the second syllable the word turned into a startled scream.

Loftskip turned slowly, holding up her arms, trying to seem as nonthreatening as possible.

Considering that she was at least a head taller than  _Robbie_ in this form, she wasn't too surprised to find the children all huddled behind Stephanie, using the tall girl as a meat shield, all staring at Loftskip with wide, terrified eyes.

"...you're not Sportacus," Stephanie stated warily.

Loftskip nodded. "No, I am not," she assured, slowly crouching down to meet the children's height. 

"Wha-" Ziggy started, stumbling over his words. "Are you like Roboticus??"

Loftskip groaned at the comparison. "No. My name is Loftskip. You may know me better as Sportacus's airship."

Stingy leveled her with a shrewd glower. "You don't  _look_ like his airship." 

"No, look, she's got a crystal, like Sportacus!" Pixel insisted.

"What kind of a name is Loftskip??" Trixie muttered. 

"She talks like a girl Sportacus," Ziggy whispered, cowering behind Stephanie's elbow.

"Where is he?" Stephanie demanded, narrowing her eyes. Loftskip rubbed a clawed finger over the front of her face, roughly where the bridge of a nose might be on a flesh-and-blood person. She supposed she should count her blessings that at least _one_ of the children could keep their priorities straight...

"You five should return to your homes," Loftskip insisted.

"We can't," Stephanie said, tight-lipped. "We need to find Sportacus. Our parents won't wake up."

That gave Loftskip pause. "...do they appear sick or injured?"

It was Stingy who spoke up this time, shaking his head rapidly. "No, my nana's fine, it's like she just fell asleep all of a sudden-"

"Same for my family," Trixie added.

Pixel was the only one who shrugged. "I mean, my dads sleep in a lot on Saturdays anyway..."

Loftskip's internal sensors pinged, momentarily drawing her attention away from the children, back to the street and the park that was just within her line of sight. She suspected none of the children had noticed yet, but even from this distance, Loftskip could sense a crackling, static hum in the air; a low fog of dense, violent magic, simmering between the buildings and the rays of sunlight.

Red and blue danced on the edge of Loftskip's vision.

"You children must leave," Loftskip said, standing and turning towards the park, all her sensors bristling warily.

"Tell us where Sportacus is!" Stephanie said, voice cracking just a bit, but she was clearly still determined to pry answers from Loftskip. She didn't have  _time_ to be herding frightened children back to their houses, there was no telling how long she had until the creature decided to change its current passive behavior, no telling how many more minutes or seconds until it decided to attack a building or a tree or any people who might be lying unconscious beside it-

The children were worried, and slowly figuring out that terrified was the next logical step. 

They would know if she was lying. 

Loftskip turned her head to the side, eyeing the children and their suspicious glares.

"...I suspect Sportacus and Robbie are in grave danger," Loftskip said slowly.

Ah. And there was the terror.

Face now pale, Stephanie whispered, "What?? Why?"

Before Loftskip could answer, a cold snap washed over her, and a screeching roar came down the street. The children shrank into each other, all eyes darting towards the sound, Ziggy and Stingy letting out faint whimpers, and Pixel flinching behind Stephanie, and Trixie hunching over like a cat raising hackles. None of them said a single word, and only Stephanie managed to tear her eyes away from the street and look up at Loftskip.

"...what's going on?" Stephanie squeaked.

Loftskip feared her tone came out more blunt than she would've liked. She didn't have much experience with children. "There is a great deal you do not know about your town, and explaining it all would take more time than I can afford to spare right now. You have my promise that everything will be explained later, but for now you five  _need_ to understand something; that sound you hear is a monster, and if I am right, it has rendered Sportacus and Robbie as unconscious as your parents, and likely injured as well. I need to help them, and I need to go help them  _now."_

"Monster??" Trixie sputtered. "Are you serious?"

Loftskip's sensors pinged again in warning, and she desperately tried to find some quick way to explain the situation, and after another moment of looking at Trixie, she had her answer.

"You all remember when you found Sportacus and Trixie by the maple, last week? And Sportacus could not speak?"

All five nodded.

"This monster was responsible for that," Loftskip explained. "Sportacus made sure Trixie did not see it, to keep her safe. The monster caused him great pain, and Robbie helped him recover. Since then, the monster has attacked them both, and caused them a great deal of harm. They have been working together to try and stop the monster from hurting anyone else." Allowing a pause for her words to sink into their heads, she stated grimly, "They went to the park to try and stop the monster this morning. They failed, and now they are hurt, and I must help them."

Loftskip noticed Stephanie's eyes were tearing up. Pixel's, too, and Ziggy's. Trixie's eyes were the size of dinner plates, and Stingy was staring down the street in horror, mouth hanging open slightly.

As gently as she could right now, Loftskip said, "You five need to stay away from the park. I have no idea what that creature will do if it sees you. I do not know what has happened, and I do not know why your parents are all unconscious, though I am certain the monster is at fault. I do not know why you are still awake. I have no more answers for you. You need to stay here. I will come back for you once Sportacus and Robbie are safe. Do you all understand?"

One by one, the children nodded. Ziggy slid down to the street, wrapping his superhero cape around his shoulders, and the others slowly sat down around him, eyes darting between the street and Loftskip.

"Stay here," Loftskip said firmly. "I promise I will come back."

With that, she left the children, and ran down the street as the monster roared again.

 

* * *

 

He remembered.

**Yyou did this it hurts-**

He remembered, too. 

_**I didn't do anything you did this to us you did everything-** _

They both remembered, days of chasing and running and - and nothing else. They knew there was  _something_ else, faces without names and names without faces, and no way to which memory went to which of them. They could only remember with perfect clarity the moments that were them, and  _only_ them.

Running. Chasing. A razor blade kiss on the neck.

A rundown motel room drenched in cigarette smoke. A lipstick stain on the inside of the wrist.

The first nervous night. A gang war, a pistol round glancing off a car door and burying in the back of a shoulder. A savior in the shadows and stitches in the basket of a hot air balloon, wary confusion, the shock and the blue wings wincing around the bullet,  ** _I should've died why the hell were you there, why the hell were you following me-_**

**I was - I was -**

_**You never helped you never saved me-** _

**I tried-**

_**I just wanted-** _

**I just wanted-**

Running. Chasing. 

Neither of them staying still long enough to let the other find them.

 _**I** _ **just _wanted_ you  _to_ come  _home-_**

And now they were here and home was long forgotten, and all they had instead was pain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hearing about what's happening to Stefan completely threw off my ability to function. I'm going to punch his cancer until it evaporates into nothing.
> 
> Hopefully we'll hear good news soon, and I'll be able to resume a better update schedule and not go two weeks without posting anything.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HANG ON BOYS ROBOMOMMA'S COMING

Once she was relatively certain the children wouldn't follow her, Loftskip silently vaulted up the side of the building closest to the park, springing from fire escape to ivy-coated fire escape until she reached the roof. Crouching among a scattered heap of pigeon feathers, she crawled to the edge of the roof and peered over the side, optics narrowed at the intersection below her.

Two small trees that had lined the park walls stood bent and splintered, leaves coating the sidewalks. Bits of concrete and stone seemed to burst from the ground, cracked much in the same way they would be if a small earthquake had occurred. In the middle of the street lay huge patches of moss and discarded, mottled skin, and bits of wood and perhaps bone.

Loftskip was grateful for her lack of a gag reflex as her optics fell upon the hoarsely-breathing abomination standing in the street.

The acuity of her optics, and her sensors, was a boon in any other situation, but for once she wished she couldn't see the monster with such clarity. She wished she couldn't see the sores along its twinned necks, oozing yellowish pus, or the redness in the two pairs of eyes that never quite seemed to focus on anything. She wished she couldn't make out each and every crack in the bark and the scabs that grew from their limbs, or the feeble twitching in the black-veined wings. 

She hovered at the edge of the roof, dumbstruck by their transformation, for two minutes at least before they let out a rasping howl, and reminded her of the urgency of the situation.

The creature was circling nowhere in particular, pacing up and down the street, claws seemingly more interested in tearing at its own body than anything else.

Loftskip fixed one of her internal sensors on the monster, and turned the rest of her attention towards the three bodies lying limp on the ground, two in the street and one crumpled in the shadow of a wall. Loftskip's crystal, usually obediently quiet, let out a keening cry as her gaze fell upon the body at the wall - blue and blonde, bleeding from  _somewhere_ if the faint red smear on the wall was any indication.

Every one of Loftskip's instincts told her to run for her elf, take him and leave the rest behind.

Suppressing her reflexes, she looked to the two figures collapsed together on the street, closer to the monster than Sportacus.

One, she recognized by the sweater and the purple wings and the mess of black hair.

The other was... well, the first thing Loftskip noticed was  _naked._ Between that and the long, matted hair, and the mud sticking to their arms, it didn't take much to guess at the third person's identity.

A fragile spark of hope took shape in Loftskip's core.

Standing up from her perch on the roof, she teetered at the ledge for only a single second before launching herself out over the street.

 

* * *

 

**_BLUE BLUE BLUE-_ **

**where - where-**

One of their heads snapped around, watching the blue-and-black shape as it jumped from a building and spun in the air, before landing with barely a sound in the street behind them. Their other head tried to follow, flesh twisting and jaw cracking open wide with a hoarse warning screech. A tongue of coiled intestinal flesh slipped out between their jagged teeth, and the eyes on the other head began to glow a pale blue.

The  _thing_ before them was familiar. They knew it had a name, but there were so many in their heads, it could've been  _anyone._ They remembered only a handful of details, very few of which were useful, all that were confusing.

**Blue-upon-black, won't hurt easy-**

_**what-** _

**not flesh, not blood - metal-**

_**doesn't matter make it LEAVE-** _

There was something else, a speck of a memory fighting to be known, something about the blue-upon-black that they  _needed_ to know. Half of them tried to shrink away from it -  ** _her -_** **so what -** but the other half could only see the pale shards of magic embedded in the crystal at its chest, so much like the one painfully sitting inside their own, bleeding into their stomach and halfway into their brain.

**something - something-**

_**what, what-** _

**i don't know-**

They remembered a night, another First Night, but this one was different; this night was without half of them and instead the blue-upon-black was there, and she was-

She was-

**_DOESN'T MATTER-_ **

They let out a roar and raked their claws across the concrete.

 

* * *

 

The memory slipped away from Red and Blue, and found its way deeper.

It faded down to the bones, and came to rest among the crimson crystal shards with the other half-forgotten remnants. 

 .  
.  
...w̸̧̡̺̩̤͉͈͓͎͒̓̾̏̊̈̽̕͜͠͞ẖ̡̪͎̙̬̂̽̎̋͌̂͢ḁ̶̢̪̜̦̦̼̱̺͊͌̇̊͊͊͗ṭ̷̤̫͉̳̝͉̠̀̈́̿̉̍̏̚ á̢̦̯̳̩̙͎̯̋̅͒͗͘̚͟͟͠͝r̢̘̥̯̘̾̂̆̾̂ė̷̢̛̬̹̱̗̳͇̮̙̤̿̈̅̏ y̶̛͖̘̰̦̫̓̐̂̀̈́͞͞o̷̢̳͍̣̾̑̓͒̚͢͜͜ͅų̛̙̼̙̿͌͋̏͢͝͝͠?̸̛͙̯̻̲̗̳̟̯̀̓͒́͂̿͗  
.  
.

The memory flickered.

.  
.  
.̴̧͙̭͚̹͍͉̟̐̓͗͑̒̅͢.̡̩̫̰͉͇̗͌̊͗́͘͘.̺̱̤̥͔̣̗̋̐́͗̉̀̆̇͟w̺̩̪͓̭̒͒͘͠͝͞a̷̢̤͖̗̖̍̔̈͐͂͌̚͟ͅr̷̜̘̥͓͎͉̼̬̥̈́͑͒̽͘͠m̡̗̥͕̤̬̟͇͊̂͐͑̎͜͡ͅ.̘͈̰͔̑̐͑͐͋̓̾̎̎̔͜  
̸̡̠̬̙̬̟̅̅̓̉͗͛͢͡͡͡  
͓̠̖͎̥̠͍͔͚͊̓͋̈̈́͊͗̍̓̉Y̡̬͕͚͎͓͛͆̽͜͠o̸̖͉̯̦̮͆̑̈̀̆̋͗̚͘͜͢u̷̧̲̟̫̩̩̩̩̝̳͗̈́͛́̆̓̔̏͠'̨̛̲͙͔̦̖̻̤͆̑̋̽̈́̎r̠͖̩̰̦͇̈́̾̋̉̒̿͑͝͠e̮̫̞̘͙̺̔̄̾̍͛̕̕ ẇ̲̲̳̙͔̐̍̓̃̐͗̎́͜͡a̛̱̳̫͈̼͈̬̅̂̃̉̔̓̅̚͟͟͟r̵̛̗͎̪̜͔͚͆͆̀͘̕m̴̛̥͖͔̰͕͔̤͚̼̾̓̑̔̍̆.̵̻̣͖͙̳͇͆̃̂̀͐̈́͘͟  
.

.

.  
.  
.  
**.̡̛̫̙̬̦̤̀̂͋͂͐.̴͉̬̜̝͉̀͂́͊̔̾̏̽̕͜͜͞.̨̡̙͔̝̮͙̃̋̾͐̓͠t̸̢̡͙̦̩̄̏̉̕͜͡ớ̡̨͍̤̘̩̞̺̘͗͆͘͜o̢̭͍̬̺̾̈́̿̆̚͝ w̷̛̲̻̺̤͖̹̣̦̎̍͒̀̋̎͢ͅa̴̧͇̰̼̼͈̣̹͉̎͋́̾̓̄̕͢͡r̴̥̤͖̞̆͛͌̽̄ͅm̛̝͚͕͔͈͙̩͕͌̇̌̈̿͋͟͟.̶͇̙̤̦̺̘̖̼͑̈̆̇͘̕͟͞͡͡.̸̡̬̪̼͖̟̫̘͌̽͛̓̄͜͢͠.̢̳͉̖̰̪̼̱̜̳͌̓͆̃͗͗͋̈͡**  
.  
.

 

* * *

 

Loftskip stood perfectly still, between Robbie and the monster, waiting to see if it would charge.

When the two heads only snarled, their hands raked over the ground, and their skin flashed with iridescent magic, she took a cautious step backwards towards Robbie. Still not taking her attention fully off the monster, she slowly moved around him, kneeling down so she could examine him and keep the monster in her peripheral vision. 

His face was paler than usual, sweat beading on his forehead. Loftskip took notice of the fact that he seemed to be collapsed into the lap of the emaciated woman with the matted hair, one arm hooked around her back, her hands near his head. The woman's breaths came out in hoarse wheezes, leading Loftskip to consider the possibility of damaged lungs. Robbie, at the very least, seemed unhurt, just unconscious.

His aura was still actively flickering, coating his body in a thin layer of purple.

Loftskip reached down and nudged his shoulder. "Robbie," she whispered, and across the street, she saw the monster's heads perk up.

Robbie let out a low groan, and didn't stir.

His aura did tense, however, at her touch, and it gave Loftskip a likely terrible idea.

Slowly, she let the slight bits of magic in her crystal bleed down into her claws, sharpening them with near-white blue. Curling her claws over Robbie's chest, she pressed down gently, not enough to break skin, or even to really make an impression on his sweater, but the moment her aura came into contact with his, purple erupted in a frothing storm around her hand, and she felt something  _bite._

Robbie's eyes flew open, and he sat upwards with a strangled gasp, which Loftskip muffled with a frantic hand before the sound could reach the monster. Robbie's eyes took a moment to find her face, and his hyperventilating breaths slowly calmed down as Loftskip quietly uttered, "Move slowly. The monster is watching."

With a slow turn, Robbie glanced towards the monster, and his eyes widened more than Loftskip would've thought physically possible. She realized in a moment that his lingering wards were still biting into her hand, and she removed her claws from his chest, and then the hand from his mouth, allowing him to whisper, "What the  _hell_ happened??"

"Something knocked out the ship's computers for almost an hour," Loftskip said. "You and Sportacus were unconscious by the time I regained control of the ship."

Robbie bit his lip, breaths shallow as he looked at the monster.

"...its bigger."

"Yes," Loftskip acknowledged, even as her sensors insisted they  _go, move, leave._ She could allow Robbie a moment to process.

Once that moment had passed, however, she coaxed his attention away from the monster, snorting and scraping the ground, saying, "Robbie, do you think you can run?"

Robbie gave her a dazed frown. "...run?"

"Yes, run." Loftskip pointed to the woman on the ground beside him, and she heard yet another soft gasp as Robbie looked at her. His wings flicked up as he turned, trembling almost as badly as his arms. He slowly gathered the woman to his chest, shifting on his knees to look back to Loftskip with a mix of disbelief and terror on his face. 

"She - I got her out-"

"Can you carry her?" Loftskip asked, trying her best to keep Robbie focused, without sounding too callous. 

Robbie's lip twitched, and he nodded slowly, still not taking his eyes off the woman in his arms. "Yeah... yeah, I can." 

"Good. I will take Sportacus."

As soon as her elf was mentioned, Robbie's eyes snapped to her face. "Sportacus - the monster hit him - where is he??"

Loftskip pointed to her right as she stood up, grabbing Robbie by the arm and helping him to his feet. Robbie stumbled, wincing as his eyes searched in the direction Loftskip was pointing. When his eyes finally found the crumpled form of Sportacus by the wall, he let out a faint, pained squeak that made Loftskip's crystal ache. Had she an opportunity, she would've tried to console Robbie, and assure him that her scans told her that Sportacus was still very much alive.

A low, growling roar from the monster stole the words away from her, and the air went cold around them.

 

* * *

 

**_Purple - Robbie-_ **

**he took her-**

_**sweetheart-** _

**we - we - we can't-**

The sight of the wings thrilled half of them with a dark glee, an emotion they couldn't place as being good or bad, just... everywhere. Filling every inch of them that was still Blue and faintly pink and aglow with bright teeth grinning in the dark.

The rest of them saw wings and purple, and  _her,_ and knew somehow that they needed her  _back._

**we need-**

_**fuck you-** _

And she was there, metal and black and blue, standing beside Sweetheart -  ** _his name is Robbie -_** and taking _her_ away, and the void inside was growing deeper at the sight of it-

**_no-_ **

**NO-**

The cold, viscous void crawled up their throats and screamed in red and blue.

 

* * *

 

Robbie couldn't  _think._ He could barely even concentrate enough to keep standing, and keep himself from dropping his mother.

Everything felt numb, still... his memory was hazy, but he remembered the dull pulse that crashed into him moments before blacking out. He remembered his mother screaming, and Sportacus-

The body against the wall on the other side of the street looked too small, and too  _still,_ and Robbie was  _sure_ that was blood on the wall behind the elf's head.

Loftskip's grip tightened on his arm, almost painfully, as the monster roared. Robbie cringed against the rasping sound of a voice that was  _almost_ Glanni, but not quite the same - too tainted with a different accent, and the guttural choking noise of blood in the windpipes.

"Robbie," Loftskip said slowly, shifting to stand between him and the creature, "be ready to run."

"What??" he whispered, eyes flicking between the monster and Loftskip and  _Sportacus._ "Where the hell am I supposed to-"

"Head for the town square," Loftskip said. "It is open enough for the ship to land. Wait there for me."

" _Wait_ for - are you  _staying here?!"_ Robbie hissed. 

Loftskip looked at him with crystalline eyes, and a dark shine overtook the lenses.

In the corner of his eye, Robbie saw the monster splay its limbs, both heads dropping low with a loud snarl, and the bark around its arms began bristling, growing away from the flesh in gnarled branches-

"I need to get Sportacus," Loftskip said, tone dropping a dangerous octave, "you just get your mother out of here."

"Loftskip-"

A roar shook the street.

" _Now,_ Robbie!"

The monster charged.

 

* * *

 

**_GIVE-_  
**

**HER-**

_**BACK-!!** _

* * *

 

 _"Now,_ Robbie!!" Loftskip shouted as the monster launched itself towards them, arms splayed out to the sides like a centipede, torso dragging along the ground and smearing pus and blackish mud behind it.

Robbie hesitated for a fraction of a second, but after a shove from Loftskip, he took off in a limping run, cradling his mother to his chest, wings frantically beating in a vain attempt to achieve liftoff. As soon as Robbie began to run, the monster veered sharply to the side, heads swiveling to follow his movement, and Loftskip darted to keep herself between the monster and Robbie.

The monster was twenty feet away, and closing fast. 

Sprinting to put herself between the monster and Robbie and Sportacus, Loftskip crouched down and retracted her fingers into her hands, and then her hands into her wrists. Her crystal flared with blistering white light, and what small sliver of magic laid within her body raced down towards the ends of her arms. 

"You will  _not_ harm them," she hissed at the creature as it scrambled towards her.

Ten feet.

Five feet.

Loftskip flared her arms out to the sides.

The magic mixed inside her metal veins with gasoline.

A crackling hiss split the air, Loftskip's body tensed, and two vivid orange plumes of fire burst from her wrists. 

 

* * *

 

The memory of her came rushing back all at once.

_An Unseelie court, disintegrating from within._

_An unlucky human town struck with the madness that comes from warring fae._

_The Order struggling to contain the outbreak, even as the fae tried to take control of their own kind._

_It was his third mission, and his first with her._

_He would've died-_

_He'd die now, too-_

**STOP-**

They drove their hands into the ground with such force their claws ripped up from the flesh of their fingers, and chunks of stone and moss went flying, and some shreds of bark found their way into the sudden blaze.

Fire crackled around her like a suit of armor, and the jets of flame that had taken the place of her hands shaped a line of fire across the ground.

The scent of gasoline met with chlorine and blood inside their nose, and for a moment, even the cold void inside them recoiled.

**_no - no-_ **

**STAY BACK-**

_**we have to-** _

**NO - STAY BACK-**

The firewall climbed into the air, moving as her arms lifted, and through the gathering smoke they saw her in double, crystal shining and metal gleaming against the flames.

Farther behind her, they saw purple wings disappear around a building.

They tried to scream, tried to call him back, call  _her_ back, but their lungs only filled with smoke. 

 

* * *

 

The fire seemed to keep the monster at bay for the moment. 

Loftskip channeled a bit more of her magic into the fire, urging it to stay strong and tall, roaring even louder than the creature hunching and scowling in the street. The fire would die soon enough without her to compel it to  _breathe,_ and it would stay where it was in the street.

She dropped her arms back to her sides, and her hands emerged from her arms again. The head that once belonged to Íþró narrowed its eyes at her, jaws distended and oozing mud, and the sight almost made Loftskip shudder.

In the back of her elf's throat, she could faintly see chunks of red crystal, still feebly glowing.

Her own crystal keened at the sight.

 _No,_ she reminded herself,  _he is not your elf anymore._

 _Her_ elf lay just a few feet away, still barely moving save for the rise and fall of his chest. Loftskip turned away from Glanni and Íþró, leaving the fire to shield her as long as it could, and crouched beside Sportacus, gently pushing his bangs away from his face.

His eyelids fluttered for a moment, but he didn't wake.

"I am sorry," Loftskip murmured to him, working her arms underneath his knees and shoulders. Heaving him off the ground, she carefully rested his head against her chest, cradling him just as she had done years ago, when he was only a child, restless with worry for his cousin.

She'd forgotten how it felt to hold him. 

He seemed to weigh nothing at all.

Affording barely a glance back at the creature who had hurt him yet again, Loftskip ran with the heat of the fire behind her, and didn't look back even as she heard Íþró's voice scream something that might have been her name.

 

* * *

 

"There's no such  _thing_ as monsters," Stephanie heard Ziggy whisper. "Sportacus  _said_ there isn't."

"He was talking about the monster you thought was in your closet, Ziggy," Trixie muttered, rocking nervously back and forth, eyes narrowed in the direction of the park.

Another roar split the air, and all the kids flinched. Stephanie felt the sound crawl up her spine, and the air took on the taste of chlorine. It reminded her of her nightmares of standing alone at the bottom of an empty swimming pool, unable to move as it filled suddenly with water, almost drowning her before she would wake up in a cold sweat. 

Ziggy pulled his superhero cape tighter over his eyes, leaning against Pixel. "There's no such thing as monsters," he repeated feebly.

Stingy had taken to slowly dragging his fingernails across the concrete, producing a sound that was only a few octaves removed from nails on a chalkboard. Stephanie was surprised that no one had snapped at him to stop by now - the thought had crossed her mind, too, but all she could really focus on was the sound of raspy snarls echoing down the street.

The ground rumbled.

It looked like Stingy's head snapped up fast enough to give him whiplash. "Is it coming this way??" he squawked in a panic.

"No, I don't - I don't think so," Stephanie said, not even sure if she believed her own words. The rumble died away abruptly only a few seconds after it appeared, and a loud screech took its place. The wail was like metal grating against metal, two voices mashed together like in one of Pixel's mixed tapes, booming loud enough that it made the buildings shake around the alley.

Alongside the screech came a faint crackling sound.

"What is that??" Pixel murmured, rolling onto his knees as Ziggy clung to his belt. 

Trixie's nose crinkled. "Smells like a barbecue.  _Bad_ barbecue."

"Look!" Stingy pointed at the sky above the buildings, and four heads turned to follow, and found smoke rising above the rooftops.

Trixie was on her feet in seconds, glancing between the smoke and the way they'd come through the alley. "We should leave," she breathed, voice clipped. "We shouldn't - that's  _fire."_

"Loftskip told us to wait for her!" Stephanie insisted.

"So?? Why should we listen to her??"

"She's Sportacus's airship-" Pixel started to say, before Trixie cut him off.

"That's what she _says_ , but then how come we've never met her before??" Trixie's voice shifted in pitch, piercing and breathy and altogether panicked. "If we stay here much longer that fire could spread and maybe that monster will come find us-"

"Guys," Ziggy whispered, peering out from under his cape.

Stephanie ignored him for the moment, standing to face Trixie. "She's the only grownup who's still awake," she said firmly. "We have to wait for her."

_"Guys."_

"I'm not sticking around to get  _eaten!!"_ Trixie shouted.

"Guys!!" Ziggy finally said loud enough to be heard. When the older kids looked down at him, he got up on shaking legs and pointed behind them. "Look!"

When Stephanie turned to look down the street, her heart skipped a beat. She heard Stingy and Pixel let out weak sighs of relief as they all saw a blue and black figure come sprinting around the corner, smoke and cinders trailing behind her as she closed the distance between herself and the kids.

Whatever relief Stephanie had felt in that moment quickly vanished when she saw that the robot had a person clutched in her arms - a very limp, very motionless person, dressed in a blue hoodie and blue sweatpants with white stripes on the side, and matching sneakers, and a blonde mess of hair on his head, which she'd never really gotten a good look at before, given how his hat was usually in the way.

Stephanie's eyes widened as Loftskip came to a grinding halt in front of them, Sportacus cradled in her arms.

There was blood in the town hero's hair, and-

Around his-

_Ears-_

"What happened to his ears??" Stingy exclaimed in shock.

Loftskip gave him a blank look - though really, that expression could've been trying to convey  _any_ emotion, if the robot even had those. "Nothing. They have always looked like that."

"But they're - they're all pointy!"

"I told you I would explain things once you were all out of danger," Loftskip said. "But we are not safe yet."

The ground began to rumble again.

Sportacus let out a weak groan, and the sound sobered the children immediately.

Loftskip stared at them with unblinking camera-lens eyes. "The fire will not keep the monster at bay for long. Follow me."

Sparing one last anxious glance at the smoke, Trixie picked up Ziggy and hiked him onto her shoulders, Pixel and Stingy fell into step at the back, and Stephanie kept pace alongside Loftskip as they began to run from the park. The whole time, her eyes darted between the streets ahead, and Sportacus in Loftskip's arms, limp and seemingly lifeless.

The monster behind them went quiet, but the impact tremors in the ground remained, and so did the taste of smoke and chlorine in Stephanie's mouth.

 

* * *

 

Robbie had only been waiting, out of breath with a stitch in his side, at the town square for a minute and a half before he heard the familiar patter of small feet rapidly approaching. Immediately his mind went into a frenzy - why were the children  _here,_ how was he supposed to get them to  _leave -_ but as an excuse was still forming on his tongue, the children appeared around the edge of a building.

The sight of Loftskip at the head of their little pack made Robbie do at least a  _quadruple_ take. 

On the one hand, Robbie was relieved that the children at least seemed undamaged, and relatively non-traumatized. 

On the other hand...

"Why are  _they_ here??" Robbie sputtered, attention torn in too many directions, between Loftskip and the children and the crumpled excuse for a Sportacus in Loftskip's arms...

"They found me before I reached you," Loftskip explained. "I promised to keep them safe."

Before Robbie could formulate a more specific question as to why being  _closer_ to Robbie and Sportacus would do the children any good, Stephanie caught her breath and looked at Robbie with wide eyes. "Robbie! You're awake!"

He gave her a baffled look. "Yes??"

"Loftskip said you were unconscious like our parents!" Stingy said.

And here Robbie thought the day couldn't get any worse, or weirder. "Wait, _what_ happened to your parents?"

"Robbie," Loftskip intoned, "perhaps we could discuss this once we are in the ship?"

Ziggy peered around Pixel's head, brow furrowed in an expression somewhere between apprehension and eager curiosity. Robbie figured it was good that despite  _whatever_ the children already knew about what was going on after dark in their town, they could still hold onto some variety of innocence. "We're going in the airship?"

Loftskip craned her head back, and said nothing.

A moment later, a shadow fell over the square, and a metallic groan rattled through the air as the ship dropped down from the sky and came to a halt just a few feet above the ground. The engines keeping it aloft kicked up such a forceful wind that it nearly knocked the children off their feet, and Loftskip had to shout to be heard above the din.

"Children, inside, _now!"_  

Battered by the engine exhaust, the kids scrambled to the open door on the side of the airship, and Loftskip let Robbie heave his way inside before she jumped in after him. The door barely had time to close before the ship began to lift into the air again, and the roar of the engines faded to a comforting hum as soon as it slid shut behind Robbie.

Slumping to his knees on the floor, Robbie's gaze drifted over the children, sprawled out and staring with gaping mouth at the airship, covered in old snack bags and t-shirts and blankets. The children started murmuring among themselves, and he heard Sportacus let out a weak groan as Loftskip stood up.

They were safe. Scared, hurt, exhausted, but  _safe._

Robbie allowed himself to forget about them, and looked down at the figure in his arms. He still didn't quite believe she was really there, but as her eyes slowly fluttered open, and she let out a hiss of a breath, his throat began aching again, even though his eyes were too sore to cry.

His mother's eyes wandered through the air before finding his face, and her fingers curled into his sweater. Her eyes still didn't seem to _know_ him, but at least she didn't try to squirm away, or scream.

Robbie held her close.

"You're safe, Mom," he whispered as the airship rose above the town, and the engine hum washed out all the other sounds. "You're safe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Flamethrowers and pain and an extremely crowded airship!
> 
> In other news, all this rain is making me tired beyond belief. It's been raining for a week straight and my productivity has dropped to abyssal levels.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we let the boys/kids/robot mom *breathe* for a change...

The airship was quiet for little more than half a minute before one of the children let out a shriek.

"Robbie! What's  _that??"_

Lifting his head up slowly, squinting against the airship light that was only making his headache worse, Robbie focused on the pink girl who'd spoken and retorted, "What's  _what?"_

Stephanie shifted onto her knees and scooted forward, pointing at his chest. "Is that - is that a person?"

Robbie's heart skipped a beat. Before he could figure out some backwards lie to tell the kids, the figure in his arms turned and looked through her matted hair at Stephanie, a low growl murmuring in her throat. Stephanie didn't seem to hear, nor did any of the other kids, who were  _all_ taking an extremely worrisome interest in Robbie and the person he was holding.

"Uh." Robbie's tongue felt like lead.

"What's with her hair?" Trixie said.

" _Uh_..." Robbie's eyes shot over to Loftskip desperately, but she was still occupied moving Sportacus over to the bed, and had inadvertently stranded Robbie in a mob of curious, entirely-too-energetic children who by all rights should've been  _petrified,_ not - not  _interrogative._

Ziggy crawled forward and reached a hand out towards Ana's arm, and the moment Robbie felt her shrink inwards to his chest, he curled his arms tighter around her and pulled away from the children. "Don't touch her!" he snapped without thinking. 

As soon as Ziggy's hand flinched away, Robbie felt a surge of regret, and hurriedly said, "I - I'm sorry, Ziggy. Just... don't touch her, okay?"

Ziggy managed a slight smile and nodded, while Stephanie gave Robbie a narrow-eyed look. "Robbie, who _is_ she?" she asked quietly. "Why does she look like...  _that?"_

"Wouldn't I like to know," Robbie muttered under his breath. 

"She doesn't even have clothes!" Trixie exclaimed.

"She doesn't?" Pixel leaned around her shoulder, brow furrowed in confusion, and Robbie heard a soft smack as Trixie pushed him back.

"Don't  _look,_ moron," Trixie hissed, and Robbie felt more than a little bit of gratitude when the boys looked at the floor, and Trixie and Stephanie kept their eyes fixed on Robbie. Ziggy just kept looking aimlessly around at Robbie's general vicinity, but he was what, six? He probably didn't even register the lack of clothes, or understand why it might be awkward.

Ana let out another soft growl. 

"Mom, they're not going to hurt you," Robbie sighed, once again not paying attention to the fact that children had  _ears._

He remembered this fact once Stephanie let out a gasp, and then a surge of regret and brief, primal terror crawled up his spine.

"That's your  _mom??"_

_Oh no-_

No, he was  _not_ discussing this with them, not now, maybe not  _ever-_

"Who's his mom?" Stingy said, parting the fingers that he'd planted over his eyes once Trixie made a comment about missing clothes.

Stephanie waved a hand at the other kids and hushed them insistently. Robbie scooted backwards towards the door, wondering how hard it would be to convince Loftskip to take him back to his house and dump him  _there_ instead of leaving him alone to deal with...  _this._ In fact, he'd probably be content being  _anywhere_ else in Lazytown, just so long as it was someplace the children and their questions were  _not._

"You don't - it's not - stop  _asking_ things!" Robbie sputtered. "Didn't Loftskip tell you  _anything??"_

Pixel shook his head. "Nah, she said she'd tell us once we were here."

Ziggy was still staring at Robbie's head, or rather, his shoulders, and the space around them. Robbie was a bit unnerved by the kid's attention, but seeing as Ziggy was the one talking the least, he was inclined to just let the kid keep staring. 

"Robbie, is that your mom?" Stephanie asked again, more quietly this time.

"That's..." _'none of your business'_ almost made it past Robbie's teeth, but he managed to stop himself just in time, and instead continued, "hard to explain."

"Well, you called her 'mom', didn't you?" Trixie commented. "What happened to her? She's a mess! _"_

" _Trixie,"_ Pixel sighed exasperatedly, dragging his hands down his face. 

"What? She is!"

Ziggy inched closer, eyes wide and _still_ focused around Robbie's shoulders. "Robbie," he said softly, "how come you're dressed up like the birthday fairy?"

"I'm not -  _what??"_

Even the other kids looked puzzled for a moment, until Ziggy pointed at Robbie's shoulders, and Robbie wings tensed instinctively. 

_Oh, fuck-_

Now all the children were looking, and he didn't have the strength to even  _try_ and raise a glamour to conceal the bright, limp, purple wings hanging down around his shoulders, twitching under scrutiny and ever so faintly glowing in the light coming through the windows. Stephanie stiffened as soon as she looked, eyes widening, and the others were only a bit slower to catch on. Only Ziggy still seemed blissfully unaware, if still confused.

Robbie had borne the brunt of their stares more times than he could count, each time his disguises were revealed, but he'd never felt so  _exposed_ before.

"...Robbie?" Stephanie began, voice cracking just a bit. "Why do you-"

"I don't!" Robbie interrupted, chest and throat tight with lies. "Whatever you're thinking, it isn't!"

"I didn't even say anything-"

"Good!" Robbie squeaked. "Don't!"

The children didn't get the memo, and Robbie was considering just jumping out the airship and hoping for the best as Stingy said, pointing over his shoulder and then back to Robbie, "Wait, Sportacus has weird ears, and you've got - wings??" The boy gave Robbie a shrewd look. "Are you two  _both_ wearing disguises?"

"No, remember, the robot lady said Sportacus's ears are always like that," Pixel said.

Stingy threw his hands in the air. "But that doesn't make  _sense!_ Why would his ears be pointy??"

"Because he is an elf."

On the one hand, Robbie was miles beyond grateful that Loftskip deigned to intervene, her soft electronic voice sparing him from further questions.

On the _other_ hand-

"Loftskip," Robbie hissed, "what are you doing?"

Kneeling down just beside Stingy, Loftskip swept her gaze over the children, and they went quiet as they looked up at her with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. For once, none of the kids interrupted, or pestered her with a dozen questions all at once, which Robbie assumed had never happened in the history of Lazytown. "I promised I would tell them the truth," Loftskip said, turning her head to look directly at Robbie. "About you, Sportacus, myself... everything. They deserve that much."

"But-" Robbie weakly began, but Loftskip cut him off with a raised hand. 

"They need to know, Robbie," Loftskip said quietly.

Finally, the uncharacteristic silence of the children broke with the sound of Stephanie's voice. Glancing between Robbie and Loftskip, she warily asked, "What haven't you been telling us?"

"Has Sportacus been keeping secrets from us?" Trixie asked.

Loftskip nodded, and the children shot each other distressed looks, and Ziggy murmured, "Was he - was he lying to us?"

"Perhaps a lie of omission," Loftskip answered, laying her hands on her metal thighs. The children's eyes darted to the bed, and then back to her, and Robbie had to give her credit for not breaking under the collective force of their wide-eyed stares. "Sportacus is, just as he told you, a hero. Though personally, I would give him a bit more credit than 'slightly above average'. However, what he neglected to tell you was that he is not human like all of you. He is an elf."

"...like Santa's elves?" Ziggy asked suspiciously, tugging on the hem of his superhero cape. Pixel facepalmed, and Trixie made a show of rolling her eyes.

Loftskip only shook her head, and gently corrected, "No, not quite like that. A different kind of elf. His people are like humans, only they belong to the magical part of the world."

Trixie scoffed loudly. "So you're saying magic is - is  _real?"_

Robbie could've come up with at least a half dozen examples of  _blatantly_ obvious magic that had been performed in front of the children - probably half of those instances were _his_ fault - but he refrained from pointing this out. The high pitch in Trixie's voice sounded all too familiar, and he was reminded of a young boy staring at the mirror, trying to convince himself that he was fine, even when it was clear he wasn't.

When Loftskip said "Yes" and Trixie slumped down and silently stared at the floor, Robbie knew that Loftskip had only stated aloud a truth that all the children  _must_ have known, on some subconscious level.

"If-" Stephanie began uncertainly, "If Sportacus is an - an elf, then - then what are you?"

Loftskip gestured at the ship. "I am an artificial consciousness, created by elves. We serve as allies to the elves of the Heroic Order. I first assisted Sportacus's cousin, and now I work with him."

"But you said you were his airship," Pixel said, pursing his lips. "Do you split yourself between the ship and the robot?"

"No," Loftskip said, shaking her head. "I can occupy one or the other, not both." Lifting a hand, she indicated the large crystal on her chest, faintly glowing blue. "This crystal connects me to the ship, and to Sportacus. I am not an elf, nor am I a person, but a consciousness, and the crystal is where I reside."

"And it's made of magic?" Stingy whispered, inching closer to look at Loftskip's chest. "What else is magic in Lazytown?"

Loftskip looked straight past the children, and Robbie withered beneath her stare, and felt her unspoken insistence. It took a moment for the butterflies to calm down in his stomach, but it helped to hear the heartbeat in the woman curled up against his chest, and to hear the sound of her breath, and the children breathing - Trixie a bit rushed, Ziggy a bit nasal - and even farther away, across the ship, the sight of an unconscious elf.

He sighed heavily.

"...I am."

The children turned in unison, bewildered, and Robbie let his wings slowly rise up around his shoulders. "Quit gawking," he muttered anxiously after a minute of the children ogling him. He saw Pixel start to open his mouth, and Robbie quickly added, "Yes, yes, they're real. Now what did I say about  _gawking?"_

"Robbie..." Stephanie breathed out.

" _Still_ gawking."

Clamping her mouth shut, Stephanie managed to tear her eyes away from the wings, and met Robbie's eyes instead. Her fingers playing restlessly with her sneaker laces, she bit her lip and asked, "Are you some kind of elf, too??"

If Robbie had had even a fraction of his usually negligible energy, and wasn't still in the process of working out how to  _function_ in the wake of magical chloroform attacks, he would've laughed uproariously, and probably would've kept it up until his lungs collapsed. However, in the light of Stephanie's outlandish assumption - Robbie, an  _elf_ \- all he could manage was a faintly hysterical wheeze that continued for a solid minute. Robbie's eyes faintly started to water, and his mother tensed up in his arms as his whole body shook.

The sound he made vaguely resembled a squeaky dog toy - and a defective one at that - and he allowed himself to momentarily cherish the startled horror on the children's faces. A glare from Loftskip finally shut him up, if only in that he couldn't figure out  _how_ she managed to pull off a glare, with her lack of eyelids or a moving mouth. There was just something to the tilt of her head, and the stiffening of her torso... Robbie sucked in a shaking, painful breath.

"No," he said, clearing his throat and stifling the last of his ragged laughter. "No, I'm  _not_ an elf."

"Then what  _are_ you?" Trixie asked warily.

Robbie shrugged a shoulder. He still couldn't quite bring himself to say the words out loud, not in front of children who had a tendency to nitpick  _every damn thing_ they were ever told. Also, his brain was still caught up in the fog of imagining himself as an _elf._  "Ziggy was half right." 

Ziggy's brow furrowed for a second, before he let out a gasp. "You're a  _fairy?"_

"Well, half," Robbie mumbled. 

"What's the other half?" Pixel asked.

"Is your mom a fairy, too?" This time it was Stephanie's voice.

"Human," Robbie answered hastily, before anyone else had a chance to interrupt, "and yes, except she's all fairy. No human half or human anything." To be fair, he didn't know if she was necessarily  _fairy_ at the moment, or if she was even...  _her._ But he was  _definitely_ not about to discuss that with the kids. 

"What about the monster?" Stephanie continued quietly. "The one Loftskip said hurt you and Sportacus?"

The immediacy with which the kids all turned to look across the ship at the bed, and the elf lying upon it, brought a flicker of warmth to Robbie's chest, for just a brief second. It was comforting to know he and Loftskip weren't the only ones worrying about their elf. On the flip side, his tongue suddenly felt heavy in his mouth, sticking to his teeth as he tried to find the least terrifying way to describe what the monster was, and why it was in Lazytown.

On his own, it might have taken hours to explain to the kids all the grotesque history that lurked in Lazytown's shadows and sewers, but Loftskip saved him the trouble, saying "The monster is both." 

"...both?" Trixie and Stingy echoed in unison, while Pixel scratched his cheek pensively, Ziggy let out a small whine, and Stephanie's whole body went stiff. 

Loftskip nodded. "You all remember when you made cake together, for Bessie's birthday? Sportacus told me it was quite disastrous at first." The children nodded, and Loftskip continued, "You also know Robbie makes costumes, and sews them together himself, yes?" There was another group nod, and Robbie wondered where Loftskip was going with her little nostalgia trip. "The monster is like that, except instead of cloth or flour and sugar, it is made from three people put together the wrong way by magic."

Robbie wondered if any of the children felt as abruptly nauseated as he did now.

"Great," he muttered. "Now they'll  _never_ eat cake again." 

"It's - it's made of  _people?"_ Stingy whispered, lip curling in disgust.

Stephanie looked worriedly back at Robbie and his mother. "Why does it - why do _they_ want to hurt Robbie and Sportacus??" 

Robbie offered another halfhearted shrug, wishing he had an answer to give. Once again, Loftskip came to his rescue and said, "We aren't sure. But the monster, and the people it is made from, seem to be in great pain, and remember very little about who they used to be."

Robbie felt his mother's fingers clutch his sweater tighter.

"We're not sure if they  _want_ to hurt anyone," Loftskip continued, "but they don't appear to have a choice. They may not be able to tell the difference between a threat and an innocent bystander, which is why we've been trying to keep you and the other townspeople away from the monster. Up until this morning, it has stayed in the sewers, and only come out at night, so we have been able to handle it without anyone else in the town realizing what is happening. However... I am not so sure we will be able to do that from now on." Loftskip rapped her fingers on her thigh, and the fans inside her torso spun slowly, like a sigh. "At the very least, we are one third of the way through fixing the monster and being rid of this problem."

"Fixing it?" Pixel echoed. "How?"

Loftskip nodded towards Robbie, and once again all the eyes switched over to him, and he was starting to worry that the kids were going to suffer whiplash. "We have already removed one person from the monster. Now only two remain to be separated."

Trixie recoiled in shock. "Wait, Robbie's  _mom_ was in the monster??" 

"As is Sportacus's cousin," Loftskip answered, "and a friend of Robbie's mother." 

"Sportacus has a _cousin?_ " Ziggy gasped. 

Stephanie gripped her skirt until her knuckles went white. "...Sportacus's cousin hurt him?"

Loftskip's nod was slower this time. "Yes... but I do not believe he wanted to hurt Sportacus. In any case, Sportacus will recover. I suspect the worst of his injuries are a few broken ribs, and a concussion. He has endured worse, so do not worry, children. He will be fine."

Robbie tried not to scoff at Loftskip's optimism. He couldn't tell which was more ludicrous on his ears; the likely deliberate falsehood that the monster _hadn't_ gone out of its way to hurt Sportacus in the past, or the notion that Sportacus would be all fine and dandy when he woke up. He figured the children didn't need his usual negativity clouding their minds, so he kept his mouth shut for the moment. 

"What about our parents?" Trixie blurted out suddenly. "Did the monster hurt them, too? Is that why they won't wake up?"

"Wait,  _what_ happened to your parents??" Robbie exclaimed, brow furrowing. 

Stephanie bit her lip. "All the other grownups are knocked out and won't wake up. That's why we were looking for Sportacus..."

Loftskip's gaze fell upon Robbie, and the lenses of her eyes darkened just a bit. "...Robbie was also unconscious when I found him, and my own computers were momentarily disabled for about an hour."

"Really?" Pixel poked the side of his headset. "I was up at six, my computers were fine."

"Yes," Loftskip acknowledged, "but my systems operate on magic as well as electronics, which is likely why I was affected. As for why none of  _you_ were knocked unconscious... I am not sure. I believe it may be wise to wait until Sportacus is awake before we try and figure that out. In the meantime, I will monitor the town, and we will deal with the monster if it threatens your parents, I promise." Looking away from the children, Loftskip said, "Robbie, you should take care of your mother. I can watch the children and Sportacus."

"...oh." Robbie found himself suddenly intensely aware of the amount of dirt on his mother's body, and the mats in her hair, and the lingering smell of blood and decaying plant matter still caked on her legs and arms. "Do you - does the ship have-"

Loftskip turned her head to the side, looking to the empty other half of the ship, and before Robbie could even finish his sentence, the walls of the ship hissed, and something vaguely resembling a stark, rectangular shower unit folded out of the wall. The same frosted plexiglas that had protected Robbie from a possessed Sportacus slid out from the floor and ceiling, and Robbie let out a short laugh as the children simultaneously gasped in amazement. 

"What  _else_ does the ship do?" Pixel asked. "Sportacus never lets us in here!"

"Perhaps a tour is in order," Loftskip said, standing up and motioning for the children to follow. "Let's leave Robbie and his mother alone for a little while."

Most of the children were up and swarming Loftskip in seconds, and only Stephanie lingered for a moment, biting her lip and looking at Robbie's mother. Robbie was about to reiterate his earlier point about gawking, but he was silenced by the sound of the girl quietly saying, "I hope your mom gets better, Robbie."

Robbie's throat tightened. "...yeah. Me too."

When Stephanie tore her eyes away from Robbie and got up to join the other kids, Robbie shakily hauled himself to his feet, spine cracking as he stood. His wings flattened against his back, too exhausted to so much as flick or twitch as he made his way to the shower unit. As soon as he stepped past the plexiglas, the panes slid closed behind him, muffling the sound of the children peppering Loftskip with questions, and reducing their figures to colorful silhouettes.

As the quiet settled around them, Robbie felt his mother's grip on his sweater relax slightly, and it brought a weak smile to his face.

"Please don't freak out, Mom," he muttered, mostly to himself, as he maneuvered the both of them into the shower. The unit was more of a rectangular bathtub than anything, with more plexiglas serving as the knee-high walls around the tub, with a white curtain around the rest. Robbie set his mother down in the middle of the tub, and she sat with her knees up against her chest, and her arms hanging at her sides, hair covering her face.

Pulling up his sleeves, Robbie grabbed a bottle of shampoo off the small shelf inside the tub and pulled the detachable shower head down from its fixture. The moment he turned on the water, his mother flinched, but stayed mostly still; all she seemed to have the energy to do was shiver. 

"This isn't going to hurt you," Robbie assured, slowly turning the shower head and running a stream of warm water down his mother's shoulder. When she didn't scramble away in a panic, he started soaking the rat's nest on her head, keeping his movements painfully slow. Once her hair was soaked through, he grabbed the apple-scented shampoo - and of _course_ it was apples, he shouldn't have expected anything else.

Lather, rinse, repeat. Pick twigs and leaves out of her hair between each pass. 

She wouldn't stop shivering, even as the warm steam filled the shower. 

Robbie bit his lip and kept his eyes on her face and slowly scrubbed the mud from her hair. 

 

* * *

 

The warmth felt wrong. 

Warmth was... it was  _supposed_ to be a memory, and a memory only.  _Reality_ was the dark familiarity of the sewers, and cold water beneath her hands and feet, and the sensation of roots growing beneath her skin. Reality was the two phantom hearts crammed into her ribcage, on either side of her own, constantly crying to be  _together_ and yet... wanting to run, run and tear away from their body and never see the other again.

Reality was darkness, and sleep, and then a painful burst of blue.

Reality was the  _thing_ inside all their bones, the void that was slowly pulling itself up and out of their bodies, in pieces of blood and magic, shaping itself into - into  _something._

Reality was chasing the Purple, because of the promise, and then-

And then-

And  _now_ reality was turned inside-out, and she was...  _her,_ again. Without the other two.

And more importantly, they were without her.

They still had the cold inside, and none of her to help keep it at bay.

And the memories... they were bigger now, almost painfully vivid, and yet still so much like puzzle pieces with all the edges sawed off. She recognized each memory, knew every name and face, and remembered the shape they were supposed to make, but they didn't  _fit._ She needed to fill in the gaps, needed to _know,_ but she didn't have the slightest idea where to begin _._

She shivered. 

The steam swaddling her smelled like apples, and the hands in her hair were larger than they should have been.

She watched him in the corner of her eyes, even as the water dripped down and made her eyes sting, and the man cursed under his breath and wiped the suds from her face.

...this man was somewhere in her mismatched memories.

He  _had_ to be.

She bit her lip the way he did and delved into the gold-tinted vestiges of who she used to be. 

 

* * *

 

"I'm going to have to cut this later, aren't I?" Robbie commented as, after almost a  _half hour_ of scrubbing, he  _finally_ had his mother's hair reasonably clean. Chunks of moss and loose hair clogged the drain, which was still functioning by some miracle of engineering, but at the very least her hair wasn't as tangled as it used to be, and had returned to its original color, more or less. It now looked recognizable brunette, though Robbie noticed the roots seemed blacker than he remembered.

As for the rest of her, the shampoo and water had gotten off most of the dirt from her shoulders and upper arms, but the rest of her was still a mess, and Robbie wasn't exactly looking forward to cleaning her, but he figured it was worse to leave her as is. Suppressing a sigh, he grabbed a bar of pristine soap, and silently wondered if Loftskip had any extras in case one wasn't enough.

"Please hold still, _"_ Robbie murmured, moving the shower stream over his mother's chest and shoulders. 

Thankfully, she barely moved as he washed the dirt from her chest, only briefly glancing at him once or twice. Her eyes mostly watched his hands as he tried to touch her as little as possible, letting the water do the work instead.

It was only when he moved her hair away from her left shoulder, and his arm crossed over hers, that she moved.

Robbie froze in place as she slowly reached up and grabbed his arm, one hand wrapping around his wrist, and the other near his elbow. Her eyes squinted faintly at his arm, her thumbs gently rubbing his skin. She let out a slow breath, mouth parting open a bit, tongue scraping over her lower teeth. No sound escaped her mouth save for a low rasp.

Robbie felt her grip tighten for just a moment, and she let out another hoarse breath, before she dropped his arm and drew her arms up to her chest.

Her hands were shaking, and her body was shivering even worse.

Slowly, her eyes shifted to his face.

 

* * *

 

The arm.

She almost didn't see it, the soap bubbles almost hid it, but-

There was a scar. Barely visible, short and thin, on the inner forearm, just below the elbow.

Her lungs felt twisted all of a sudden, almost unable to draw in another breath.

_...monkey bars._

She remembered fear - no, she remembered  _terror._

It was the first time she'd ever been terrified.

It was not a feeling fairies knew.

Not - not for  _this._

Not for  _him._

But - the monkey bars, and the hospital, the surgery and the splint-

He'd never been  _hurt_ before.

He was so easy to hurt.

She shouldn't have cared,  _why_ did she care, why had she been  _terrified-_

Her eyes found his face.

His eyes were gray and his brow was furrowed and his lip was creased from being bitten.

His face was in her mind, in her memory, and-

 

* * *

 

Robbie tensed as she moved again. This time, her hands moved towards his chest, still shaking. Her eyes were still partly hidden behind her hair, her bangs that had grown out of control, but he could just make out the pale blue of her eyes as they widened, and her brow knit together-

His breath hitched.

Her hands framed his face, wrinkled fingertips pressing against his cheeks, thumbs rubbing just on either side of his mouth. A croaking breath escaped between her lips, and though the water made it hard to tell, he knew the way her eyes changed when tears were welling at their edges. It was the rarest sight, something he'd glimpsed maybe twice in his life, and it was burned into his memory like the sound of her scream.

Something he had  _never_ seen were the tears actually falling, racing down her cheeks as her whole body seized with the quietest stutter of a sob.

"R..."

His heart skipped a beat, and the whole world seemed to fall away from them.

"R... Robbie?"

The tears came all at once, stinging the corners of his eyes that had been dry all of two seconds ago.

Even though his whole face seemed to ache, a smile split Robbie's lips.

"...Mom?"

A high-pitched breath escaped her mouth, and her hands trembled violently. She suddenly pitched forward, crumbling into his chest, hair falling down around her shoulders and baring the scars on her back where her wings used to be. The shower head fell from Robbie's hand, splashing into the tub and being immediately forgotten as Robbie's heartbeat roared in his ears and he reached up to grasp his mother's face.

" _Robbie,"_ she gasped out, teeth chattering as a sob wracked her body, "Robbie-"

He wiped the tears away from her cheeks, barely able to see straight through his own anymore, and a breathless laugh found its way past his lips.

"Mom," he whispered, "Mom, you - you-"

"Sweet - sweetheart-" Her words stumbled over each other, and the corners of her mouth curled upwards.

Robbie pulled her forward and clutched her to his chest, burying a sob into her apple-scented hair.

And this time, when she let go of his face, her arms wrapped around his body instead, and held him tight as she whispered his name over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, guys?? I can be nice! Bittersweet, but still nice!
> 
> I got like, 3 drawings to go with this chapter about Ana and Robbie. They've been haunting my desktop for about a month and a half waiting for this chapter to be up so I can post them to tumblr. 
> 
> Also sorry for the late-ish update, I've been working on binding a book and I also just kinda... needed the time away from the laptop, you know? Let my brain cool down and recharge. Tho the downside to this is apparently my fingers can no longer figure out where the keys on the keyboard are...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh.... wow, I got this chapter out quick. Enjoy ;)

"So, um... which one do you want?"

It took a surprising amount of concentration to force herself to look away from the man's face, and instead look at the few articles of clothing he was presenting to her now that the shower was done and she sat huddled on the floor in nothing but a towel. Time still felt like it was moving through molasses, but with every passing minute - or perhaps every two - she felt a little bit more come back to her.

Extending a hand that had more age wrinkles than she remembered, she pointed to a pair of black sweatpants and a bright yellow cable knit sweater. 

The edge of Robbie's mouth twitched, and he pushed the other clothes to the side. Scooting forward on crisscrossed legs, he helped pull the sweater on over her head and shoulders, and the moment she lifted her arms her whole body seemed to ache, especially between her shoulder blades and each of her ribs. All her own movements were too quick, too sharp and deliberate, nothing like - nothing like the way she was with the other two.

There was a newfound energy to her body, and her mind, and she could  _control_ it.

And stranger still, she could _think,_ without first pushing through at least two other screaming voices, a void, and no shortage of pain. A fog lingered over her mind, pressing against the insides of her skull, but with a little patience, and a little bit of counting of her own,  _singular_ heartbeat-

She could _remember_. 

Most of the deeper, older memories were still hazy, but almost all of what she could find were memories of Robbie, and her throat suddenly ached in a manner not even remotely befitting a fairy.

...Robbie.

Her _son._

"There we go," Robbie said, tugging the sweater down over her chest. "Do you think - you think you can do the rest yourself, or-?"

His face had changed. It was heavier now, no baby fat left clinging to his sharp cheeks. His hair, too, was longer, and his eyes heavy with dark circles, and there were creases around his lips that were all wrong, the kind that went with frowns and scowls, not smiles or laughter. Not that Robbie had ever much been the kind for laughing, but there was a sadness to his features that took hold of her heart and gnawed on it just as ferociously as the cold inside the monster she once was.

For a moment, it occurred to her that she didn't know which monster she was referring to; the one still far below her, in the town, or the one locked up in her oldest memories.

_Patience._

She would figure it out, in time.

Giving Robbie a nod, she pulled the rest of the clothes on herself, and Robbie finished drying off her hair, now hanging in loose curls down to her waist. 

"...I'll find some scissors," Robbie muttered, tugging on her bangs aimlessly. "If - if that's okay."

She licked the insides of her lips.

"...yes," she rasped slowly. "Please do."

Talking helped the memories come back.

Robbie gave her a smile that was almost a wince. As he stood up, she was struck with the realization that he was  _tall,_ perhaps even taller than her now, limber and yet a bit chubby around his waist. He scratched the crook of his elbow, and his gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned and walked towards the strange, frosted-glass barrier on the side of the room opposite the curved ceiling-to-floor windows that let the sun stream in.

She noticed he was limping, and she tasted bile.

The glass slid open to let him through, and she heard voices, and saw the shapes of people - shapes of children.

When it slid closed behind him, she watched his dark silhouette, suspicious of its permanence.

It could be a ruse.

It could all be a lie.

Her fingers curled against the cool white tile beneath her, and she craned her head back, her ears taking in the hum in the walls around her.

...no.

_No._

This was real.

The ship, the yellow sweater, the pain in her back, her  _son-_

It was all real.

 _She_ was real again.

 

* * *

 

Robbie managed to make it all the way through the plexiglass divider before his legs turned to jelly, and he staggered against the wall for support. 

In the corner of his eye, he saw the kids playing some kind of board game that resembled Chutes and Ladders, and the moment he emerged they all looked up at him. A couple of them looking interested, and Ziggy even scooted towards him, moving to stand up, but in that same moment, Loftskip seemed to materialize out of nothingness to gently push him back down, quietly insisting that they leave Robbie be.

Robbie shivered and used the wall for support as he went over to the pile of clothes and half-empty snack bags by the ship's pantry unit. Loftskip came up by his side, moving with barely a sound, and she stayed quiet for a moment as he rummaged through his things. Once he stood back up, scissors in hand, and leaned against the wall, Loftskip gave him a look and softly asked, "How is she?"

His whole body shuddered, and he pressed a hand to his mouth, trying not to break down and bring the children's attention back to him.

"She - she-" he whispered, a dozen breaths squeezing out of his lungs in the span of each second. "She  _remembers_ me, Loftskip." 

Loftskip's head pulled back slightly, and he took that to mean surprise. She reached out and gently cupped her hand over Robbie's, and even that metallic touch helped slow his breathing a bit. "I'm glad," she murmured in relief. "I was... concerned about what her mental state would be."

"She knows my name," Robbie gasped out, barely louder than a breath, eyes once again clouding over with tears. "She knows my  _name,_ she's talking - she called me _sweetheart_." Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Robbie tried not to notice how quiet the kids had gotten, and cleared his throat. "She's - she's so thin. Do you think I should - should I get her something to eat?"

Loftskip cocked her head to the side. "...perhaps just start with something to drink. To get her used to having something in her stomach again."

Robbie nodded slowly, head pounding still, but the feeling was lessening bit by bit.

...hot cocoa. Yeah, that sounded good. 

Before he turned away from Loftskip, however, he flashed a brief glance to the bed on the wall, and murmured, "How... how is he doing?"

Loftskip rubbed a metal thumb over Robbie's knuckle.

"He'll recover," she reassured. "He just needs rest, and time for his magic to heal him. I'll do what I can to help. You just... worry about your mother for now."

"...thank you, Loftskip."

"Of course, Robbie."

 

* * *

 

While they did their best to be subtle about it, the kids couldn't help but eavesdrop on Robbie's brief exchange with Loftskip. They couldn't make out more than a few words, but the tone of Robbie's voice was painfully blatant, and so was the shaking in his shoulders as he made two mugs of hot cocoa and ducked back into the other side of the divider. 

Ziggy fidgeted with a game token, looking at Robbie's vanishing shape as the plexiglass closed behind him. "I've never seen Robbie  _cry_ before," he whispered.

"Me neither," PIxel agreed, absentmindedly rolling a die around near his feet.

"And he really _is_ working with Sportacus," Stingy said, more than a bit awestruck. "Everything's _weird_ now." 

" _That's_ what's weird?" Trixie said sarcastically. "Did you forget the  _monster?"_

"I'm trying to!"

"Kids, please try and keep your voices down," Loftskip urged gently from across the other side of the room, as she gathered a few more pillows from a previously hidden closet and took them to Sportacus's bed.

"Sorry," Stephanie said on behalf of the five of them. Lowering her voice, she murmured, "I'm glad his mom's okay."

Pixel looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what he said? I couldn't hear him."

"Yeah," she nodded, "I heard him say she remembers him, so I think that means she's okay." 

"...Loftskip said she was  _in_ the monster," Trixie said hollowly, and Stingy shot a glare at her before covering his ears. Trixie ignored him and continued, "How does that even  _happen?_ I know she said 'magic' but, like...  _how??_ And Sportacus's cousin, and whoever the other guy is-" Trixie tugged on her pigtails restlessly, nostrils flaring in frustration. "And how come  _we're_ still awake, but not our parents?? We weren't even near the monster!"

"Maybe Sportacus knows," Stephanie offered with a limp shrug. 

"Yeah, but he's not awake, either," Trixie muttered.

"He will be soon, though... right?" Ziggy said nervously.

Stephanie glanced over at the bed, and the tall robot double-checking the fresh bandages wrapped around his head, and she wrung her hands in her skirt.

"...I hope so."

 

* * *

 

As soon as he returned to the front half of the airship, Robbie nearly had a panic attack, as his mother was  _not_ where he left her, huddled beside the shower. It took him a moment of frantic spinning on his heels to locate her, and he was surprised he didn't end up spilling the cocoa or stabbing himself with the scissors in the process. The towel lay abandoned by the shower, and Ana had moved over to the glass floor around the pilot seat, laying out on her stomach, knees bent towards her chest and hands pressed against the glass. 

The sunlight almost made her hair and skin look normal again, but as Robbie came closer, and she turned her head to look up at him, he was reminded of her sunken cheeks and the lack of color in her eyes. Still, when she slowly sat up and he knelt down beside her, the narrowing to her eyes seemed less feral. Instead, it reminded him of the scrutiny and patience he remembered from back when he was a child.

He offered her a steaming mug with two big marshmallows in it. "I made cocoa."

She regarded the mug for a silent half a minute before she reached out and took it from Robbie. He glanced at her fingers as they curled around the warm mug, and he made a mental note to find some nail clipped at some point, but for now he was more worried about her hair. 

Ana took a slow sip from the mug, edges of her mouth curling against the heat. When she pulled away, a bit of cocoa staining the skin around her upper lip, she narrowed her eyes and hoarsely said, "You threw a mug at him when we came home, didn't you?"

Robbie had to think for a moment. "...oh. At Glanni? After my wings came out?" His wings itched where they connected to his back. He hadn't thought of that night in so many years... hell, he'd only started remembering it thanks to Sportacus. "I guess I did."

Ana's eyes darted to his wings, and she drew in a slow breath through her nose. The corner of her eye twitched.

"Glanni," she said slowly. "Glanni... Glæpur." She eyed Robbie over the rim of her mug, clutched up right in front of her face. "That _is_ his name, isn't it?"

Robbie lightly bit his tongue. "...yeah, that's his name."

Another sip of cocoa. At least she was eating something, and that made Robbie feel a bit better, at least until he heard her quietly ask, "What's my name?"

His heart skipped a beat.

"You - you don't-?"

She shook her head, but paused halfway through, mouth curling into a faint grimace. "I... know my name.  _My_ name." Her eyes met his, and Robbie almost flinched at the deep gold hue they suddenly took. It faded almost as soon as he spotted it, and his mother continued, "The name I had when I was born...  _that_ one, I know. But it's... not the name _you_ know." Crossing her legs, she lowered her mug and leaned forward, hair draping over her face like a curtain as she looked closer at Robbie. "I want to remember that name."

Robbie's Adam's Apple bobbed.

"...Ana," he breathed. "You've always been Ana. Or - or Mom."

She nearly smiled. "I know the second one," she rasped. 

Robbie grinned shakily and downed another long gulp of cocoa that burned the back of his throat. "Mom, how much do you... how much do you remember? About us? About living in Lazytown?"

Her eyes fell on his arm. "I remember  _that."_ Her gaze moved to his shoulders next. "And your wings. And... every birthday, except the ones I missed..." She looked away from him, staring at the floor, head dropping until her face was hidden again by her hair. "I - I remember Glanni teaching you. And every time you were sick. And how much you hated school. But... not everything."

Letting out a quiet sigh, Robbie set down his mug and scooted forward, reaching out and parting his mother's bangs until he could see her face again. "It's okay," he said, trying his best to be reassuring. "I mean, you've only been back for a few hours. And _you're_ the one who was always telling me to be patient." Rubbing a lock of hair between his fingers, he asked, "So, do you want me to get rid of all this?"

She glanced at the veritable wall of hair around her face, and set her cocoa down beside her. "...yes."

Cutting his mother's hair down to a reasonable shoulder length proved to be almost as much a chore as giving her a shower, there was just so much of it. In the end, Robbie found himself practically swimming in chopped-off hair, despite his best efforts to keep it contained to a relatively neat pile. Thankfully it was still damp, so the discarded hair didn't manage to spread  _too_ far across the floor of the ship.

After about ten or so minutes of careful trimming, Robbie had achieved what he thought was a fairly professional-looking haircut. He'd forgone trimming the bangs for the time being, and once he was done and he tucked the hair behind his mother's ears, she looked like a normal fairy woman who _hadn't_ spent the last decade as a component of a horrific magical monster. 

Brushing the stray hairs off of her sweater and into the pile, Robbie put the scissors in his pocket and slid around to face her, leaning against the pilot seat and retrieving his mug of now slightly-less-than-scathingly-hot cocoa. Ana tilted her head to each side slowly, running her fingers through her hair, which now moved easily around her shoulders without weighing her down.

"Thank you," she said, giving her hair one last brush through before tucking her arms against her chest, hands crossed loosely against her collarbone. Robbie gave her a soft smile, and she almost returned it, but her focus seemed to drift away from Robbie. For the next few minutes, he was content to sit, drink cocoa, and watch her as she looked around at the ship, and down at the town beneath them through the glass.

Eventually, one hand came away from her chest, and drifted over the floor. Robbie paid it little attention until she spoke up again.

"...there's no iron," Ana murmured, running her hand over the back of the pilot seat. 

Robbie glanced around the ship. "I - I never noticed." In hindsight, the ship's lack of iron should've been a lot more noticeable, but then again, the first time he was in the ship without his wards up, he wasn't exactly in an observing mood, and after that... well, after that, iron was the least of his worries, and by now he couldn't quite bring himself to imagine the ship wanting to hurt him. "Would a hero ship even need iron? I thought they just stuck around humans and elf territories."

Ana's hand paused, fingers resting on the sleek aluminum, tapping just enough to produce a ringing sound that echoed off the walls, and wormed its way into Robbie's eardrums.

"No, it wouldn't," Ana rasped, craning her head back and just barely narrowing her eyes at the ceiling. Her hand lifted from the pilot chair, hovering in the air before slowly coming to press against her chest alongside her other arm. Her eyes fell upon Robbie, and for just a fraction of a second he saw another strange glimmer of gold in her irises. "But this... this is not a hero's ship."

Robbie's grip on his mug tightened, and his wings went stiff.

"She's... not?" he asked uncertainly. His mind raced to the terrifying conclusion that his mother still wasn't back to her full senses, that she was still confused, but - everything  _else_ had been right, been normal. She remembered him, their old life, her old Seelie  _name_ for crying out loud... everything she was saying was making sense, sounding like  _her,_ at least up until this exact moment.

Her gaze flicked away from Robbie, falling upon the plexiglass divider and the shapes beyond. 

"Hero's ships cannot inhabit a second body," Ana said coldly, narrowing her eyes. "This... I couldn't remember at first, but..."

There was another flash of gold, and suddenly Robbie remembered why it seemed to strange.

Sunflower yellow, sunrise orange... that meant  _mother._

Gold - pure, almost blinding gold - meant  _Seelie._

"It's been modified," Ana muttered, voice a low rasp. "Well disguised. I almost didn't realize..."

"Mom," Robbie said, straightening up and giving her a worried look, "what are you talking about?"

She didn't look at him. Her eyes remained warily transfixed on the plexiglass wall, her shoulders hunching, and Robbie's wings rose up to mimic her posture out of some primeval instinct.

"It may have tricked you," Ana said under her breath, "but not me." 

Robbie's stomach churned. The words made no sense to him, but the way his mother said them sent a chill down his spine. 

"...Mom," he whispered, reaching out and gently grabbing her shoulder. The moment he touched her, her head snapped around with alarming speed, her mouth slightly open with short, silent breaths, her eyes looking around at the ship with all the paranoia of a cornered animal. "Mom, she's not - she's not going to hurt us, we're fine! She's - she's been helping me, she helped me get you back - she  _saved_ us this morning."

"This is a _hunter ship,_ Robbie," Ana hissed.

Robbie's blood ran cold. "A _what?"_

"A hunter! A _fae killer_ , Robbie!" Her hand shot out and grabbed onto his sweater, dragging him closer to her, close enough for him to see the grim desperation in her eyes with painful clarity. The sudden movement startled Robbie so much he dropped his mug, and the contents spilled across the floor. "The hunters have brought down more courts than the elvish  _warships_." The gold hue to her eyes was shimmering, almost overtaking the stoic blue that Robbie had looked up to all his younger life. "Who knows how many fae are dead thanks to them. This ship  _alone..._ I've seen them burn entire _forests._ And I - if it hadn't been for your father - I was brought within an inch of my life because of hunters, Robbie. I know what they are capable of, and I - gods, I never thought one of them would find  _you."_

For a moment, Robbie couldn't breathe. Thankfully autopilot took over shortly, but for at least another minute after that he couldn't so much as  _think_ as his brain tried to process the sudden overflow of hoarse words from his mother. Unhelpfully, his brain decided to latch onto the fact that his mother remember  _that much,_ and had only been free of the monster for at _most_ three hours at this point. 

Three hours, and already the gold was back in her eyes. 

How much longer would it be before the magic came back, and she could - she could-

"Mom," Robbie stammered, cupping his hand over hers and prying her fingers off of his sweater. As soon as he took her hand, she started trembling again. "She didn't - she didn't 'find' me, or whatever. I know they're elvish, but-"

"Who is the elf?" she interrupted.

Robbie's train of thought stumbled. "The - what?"

Ana's eyes darted up at the ship's ceiling, then the divider, then the floor, and then back to Robbie. "...if this is a hero ship, who is its hero?"

Robbie's vision went fuzzy for a moment. 

 _Blonde and blue and warm and soft_ _._

_Won't stop flipping._

_Tastes like apples._

"His name is-" He hesitated, licking his tongue over his lips, and a voice - his mother's voice, a bit younger and a bit warmer - filled his head, and he remembered her Rules, and all her warnings about names. It struck him suddenly to realize just how much things had changed, and he sighed. "His name is Sportacus. He's number 10 in their order."

Ana stared at him, brow furrowing with an expression that was blank for the moment, but was slowly migrating towards horror. "...you let his crystal take you in." 

"I _had_ to," Robbie protested. "I was - I didn't have a _choice_. You - the monster - how was I supposed to know you three didn't want to _kill_ me??"

Her jaw clenched hard enough for Robbie to hear her teeth grinding, and she went still again. Her head dropped forward so quickly that Robbie was afraid she was passing out, or worse, and his arm reached out reflexively to catch her. As soon as he laid a hand on her shoulder, she leaned into his elbow, the one hand clutched in his squirming around to hold onto him.

Not quite looking at him directly, she croaked, "...I hurt you."

Robbie's chest ached. "No, Mom, you didn't - that wasn't  _you."_

"It _was_ ," she insisted weakly. "I... I remember you in the tunnels, running... we were  _hurting_ you."

"Mom." He let go of her shoulder, and cupped her face instead. "I'm fine." His wings spread out behind him, catching the sunlight and glittering in his peripheral vision. "I'm fine, see? Got my wings back and everything."

The edges of her eyes were watering again. Slowly, her free hand moved to the side, reaching over Robbie's shoulder and gently grazing the edge of his wing. Almost as soon as she touched him, her hand shrank back.

"...we didn't do this," she whispered. "We tried, but..." Finally, she looked him in the eyes. "How?"

Robbie bit the inside of his mouth.

"...the elf," he murmured. "Sportacus, he - he helped me. He - he knew I had wings. After you three were - were in his head."

The tears were falling again, and it was still as haunting a sight as it was earlier that day. Even the strange, twisted monstrosity lurking down in Lazytown couldn't compare to seeing his mother cry - it just wasn't something she  _did._

"He freed them?" she croaked. "Why??"

Robbie cracked a weak grin.

"I told you, Mom. He's a hero." He wasn't about to elaborate on the  _exact_ circumstances, but it wasn't as if he was  _lying._ "This ship is, too. Her name's Loftskip. She saved me when you and the others were... you know, in the elf's head. Trying to free my wings. Remember?"

Ana leaned closer to Robbie's chest, breath warm against his neck. "...I remember being taken out of him. I remember the other elf screaming."

"Mom, you trust me, right?"

When she leaned her head back and looked up at him this time, her eyes were steely blue, without a trace of gold in them at all.

"Yes, sweetheart."

Robbie smiled, and the ache in his chest faded. "Then trust me. I promise, Loftskip isn't going to hurt us, and neither is Sportacus."

Ana's eyes danced over the walls of the ship one more time before she turned her head to the side and pressed her cheek into Robbie's arm. Her legs curled up towards her chest, and Robbie carefully maneuvered her into his lap, holding her to his chest and tucking his chin over the top of her head. Her heartbeat was just strong enough for him to feel it against his body, a dull echo that reassured him that he wasn't dreaming.

"You don't have to be scared, Mom," Robbie murmured. "We're safe up here." Pressing his mouth into her hair, he whispered, "I love you."

Ana curled into her son's chest.

Her hands cupped together, and where neither of them could see, there was a flash of gold in between her palms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeyyy progress... of a sort... why do I keep proving myself a hypocrite when it comes to this story, and here I thought Robbie's dad wasn't gonna be mentioned at all, yet here we are... also why is Loftskip suddenly having more Stuff. Stop this, Teejay. 
> 
> At least the kids seem okay for now.
> 
> Wonder how that monster's doing.


	9. Chapter 9

_Fwhum. Fwhum. Fwhum._

The sound - low and rolling, like the crash of frigid ocean waves against a rocky northern coast - surrounded Sportacus on all sides as he slowly regained awareness of his body. A heavy ache sat on top of his chest, or possibly inside of it, and his arms and legs could barely move. It took him a moment of flexing his fingers and shifting his feet to figure out he was being restrained by blankets. 

As soon as he tried to lift his head and look around, a dull pain erupted at the back of his skull, and he let out a weak hiss before sinking back down to the pillow, squinting up at a blurry ceiling with dim bluish-white lights. 

Something moved on Sportacus's right. His eyes lazily flicked over to see a dark blob approach him, crouching down beside his bed and laying a hand on the top of his head. 

The hand was metal.

Sportacus let out a shaky sigh of relief.

"...what happened?" he mumbled, vision slowly clearing as he looked up at Loftskip's face. 

"You and Robbie freed Ana from the monster," Loftskip said quietly, still rubbing her thumb through his bangs. "But it seems the monster has... changed, with Ana's removal. I came down to help and found you and Robbie unconscious."

Sportacus's heart leaped to his throat, and he struggled to sit up again, fighting through the throbbing headache and the tight pain in his chest. "Loftskip, is he-"

"He's fine, litla hetja," she answered calmly, reaching out and nudging him by the shoulder until he gave in and leaned back against the wall. She shifted the pillows behind him, making it easier for him to sit up while keeping most of the weight off of his chest. "Tired, but unhurt, as is his mother. You, however, are a different story. Two of your ribs were cracked when the monster hit you, and honestly I'm a bit surprised your skull didn't split open entirely when you hit the wall." She flicked the side of his cheek, and Sportacus rubbed it slowly as she admonished, "Your family's survival instincts leave much to be desired."

Sportacus frowned. "It's not like I  _tried_ to get hurt..."

"And yet here we are." Loftskip shook her head. "You'll be the death of me one of these days."

"...sorry," Sportacus murmured.

Loftskip's fans huffed. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

Sportacus's brow furrowed. Loftskip tilted her head a bit to the side, and Sportacus suddenly became aware of faint whispering near the foot of his bed. Looking uncertainly at the rest of the still slightly-blurry ship, he expected to see Robbie, but instead, five separate small faces rose up into view around his bed, having evidently been lurking on the floor, waiting for an opportunity to swarm Sportacus.

His heart skipped a beat. "...kids??"

All of them opened their mouths at once, and Sportacus braced himself for the inevitable interrogation, but a warning look from Loftskip silenced the cacophony before it could begin. Ziggy still hopped up onto the bed next to Sportacus's leg, and the others shuffled around to flank him on either side, faces painted with worried looks that stirred an intense guilt inside of Sportacus.

"...how're you feeling, Sportacus?" Stephanie asked first, wringing her hands together in the fabric of her skirt. 

Sitting up a little bit more, Sportacus glanced down to realize he was shirtless, and a series of thin bandages surrounded his chest in place of clothes. He shot Loftskip a confused look, and she shrugged. "There were cuts all over your chest where the monster hit you."

Nodding slowly, Sportacus took all of his various aches into account, and with his returning clarity realized that he didn't actually  _feel_ too bad, at least physically. "I'm... feeling better," he said to Stephanie. Sweeping a worried gaze over the children, he asked, "Are - are all of _you_ okay? How did you get here??"

"Loftskip brought us," Pixel said. "We saw her this morning and we thought she was you, so we followed her, and she kinda told us about the monster and you and Robbie being in trouble and-"

"She said you're an  _elf!"_ Stingy interrupted, leaning against the bed and pointing up to Sportacus's ears.

Reflexively, his ears twitched a bit, and he hoped the way his fingers curled into the bed sheets wasn't too obvious to the kids. His mouth was suddenly dry, and it took a minute for him to work up the courage to respond to Stingy as all the kids stared at him expectantly. He counted himself lucky that Loftskip still had a hand on his head - if it hadn't been for her, he might not have been able to say, "Yes... yes, I am."

Trixie crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes - which Sportacus realized with a start were a bit blotchy and red. "How come you didn't tell us??"

Sportacus winced. "I'm... not supposed to tell anyone. It's one of the rules of being a hero." Which wasn't a lie, but he had a feeling the kids wouldn't like the answer very much. 

"You told  _Robbie,_ though! He knew before we did!" Trixie said accusingly. 

Sportacus would've almost preferred facing down the monster again to facing the judgment of the kids. "I didn't  _tell_ Robbie, he figured it out on his own." 

"Are you two friends now?" Ziggy asked quietly.

Just as Trixie was starting to roll her eyes, Sportacus answered, maybe a bit too quickly, "Yes." Her eyes stopped mid-roll, and Ziggy joined her in staring open-mouthed at Sportacus, although Ziggy looked more happy than anything. The other three seemed to handle the news a bit better; Pixel had a thoughtful finger against his mouth, nodding slightly, and Stephanie wasn't saying anything, which was a little worrying, while Stingy only looked suspicious. 

"Wow, really?" Stingy said with blatant doubt. He looked over at Loftskip. "How badly did he hit his head?"

" _Stingy,"_ Stephanie sighed exasperatedly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I already told you he was helping Robbie when Robbie was sick, they're _obviously_ friends now." 

Trixie pursed her lips. "Yeah, well, Sportacus is always being nice to Robbie. Is Robbie actually being nice  _back?"_

Sportacus shot Loftskip a look saying  _help me._ Her optic lenses flickered, and she looked away, and Sportacus wondered if she was trying to roll her eyes. The kids looked like they were squaring up to launch into an argument over Robbie's change of heart, which Sportacus was  _really_ not in the mood to witness. Clearing his throat, he tried to get their attention, but he was interrupted by a voice across the room.

"Come on, you brats, I've only saved his life about six times, what more proof do you  _want?"_

The plexiglass divider slid closed. Sportacus hadn't even heard it open, and for about another fifteen seconds he couldn't hear anything but his own heartbeat roaring in his ears.

His eyes met Robbie's for a half a second and he found himself lost in their steel gray color. 

The edge of Robbie's mouth smiled, and Sportacus managed to tear his eyes away from Robbie long enough to realize Robbie had a woman cradled in his arms, dressed in a yellow knit sweater, her hair looking significantly cleaner and shorter than it had the first time Sportacus had seen her. She regarded Sportacus and the kids with half-lidded eyes that could've been either sleepy or wary; he wasn't sure how aware she was of her surroundings, so it could've been either, or both.

Sportacus clutched the bed sheets so hard his hands trembled. 

Ana was fine, Robbie was fine, the kids were fine-

Finally it felt easy to breathe again.

 

* * *

 

There were children.

 _Human_ children. 

Ana watched them closely as her son moved over to the gray couch sitting off to the side of the room, about ten feet away from the bed. He set her down gently on the cushions, murmuring something about checking on the others and being back soon, but she barely listened as she curled her legs up to her chest and pinned her arms in between them.

"You saved Sportacus _six_ times?" the boy with brown hair swept to one side said dubiously. 

"Probably more," her son muttered with a shrug as he shooed a girl in a pink dress away from her seat on the bed. He sat down in her spot, kicking one leg up and resting it on the other knee, crossing his arms over his chest. "That time he wouldn't talk and you all came and dragged me out of my house, that time he ate cookies that he thought were sugar-free and you five wouldn't stop  _shrieking,_ that time with Pixel's rogue softball pitcher... a few other times..." 

"Robbie," the blonde man in the bed said quietly, "I think they get the point."

Ana narrowed her eyes.

The man's ears were sharply pointed.

And her son was sitting right next to him as if that didn't  _matter._

Worse still, there was something - something to the elf's face, the shape of his cheeks and his mustache and the way he was smiling, that sent a chill down Ana's spine. He was familiar, but she couldn't place why, at least not yet. The memories were still coming back, mostly vague colors and smells at first, and also feelings. Names and patterns would follow eventually.

The elf at least seemed...  _tame_ for the moment. Injured, nonthreatening, a presence she could withstand without too much worry; her son was there and he was stronger than the elf. 

It was the  _other one_ that caused the veins inside her wrists to burn and glow gold. 

Ana's eyes found their way to the crystal on its chest and locked onto the sapphire-like cabochon with as much intensity as she could muster. The lure of sleep was slowly creeping up on her, spurred along by a numb hunger in the pit of her stomach and the sheer fatigue of being  _herself_ again, memories and magic slowly sorting themselves out inside of her. Despite the weight of her eyelids, she managed to focus on the metal humanoid whose claws were in the elf's hair.

The ship itself may have been an almost flawless doppelganger of a hero's ship - only the sound of its engine and the sleekness of its hull beneath the blue gas bag gave it away - but nothing short of  _destroying_ the robotic body could disguise it. This ship seemed to be flaunting its second form, brazenly standing out in the open, without so much as a dark cloak to conceal it.

The iron may have been stripped from the airship, but the android... the android body would still have its iron, wouldn't it?

Surely Robbie would have  _noticed._ Even his human blood couldn't shield him from the effects of elvish iron, if he so much as  _touched_ the android-

Ana clenched her fists, smothering the spark of gold trailing up her palm towards her fingertips. Even in her dazed state, she knew that any magic right now would burn her out in seconds. 

Besides, there were children in the ship, and hunters were no strangers to collateral damage.

"Hey, Sportacus?" One of the kids, a small boy sitting between the elf's feet, raised his voice and drew part of Ana's attention away from the android. "Can you do magic spells?" 

"I bet your crystal's magic, too!" A boy with orange hair piped up. "Right?"

Ana tensed. Human children were not supposed to  _know_ these things.

"...I can do  _some_ things," the elf said. "Not a lot. But you're right, my crystal is magic, which is why I don't like to let people touch it." The elf gave the boy in yellow a pointed look, and the child bit his lip nervously. 

"What kind of magic can you do, Robbie?" the pink girl asked, her eyes falling over Robbie's shoulder. With a start, Ana realized that what was normal for  _her_ \- the sight of Robbie's wings, bold and brilliant on his back - was not supposed to be normal for humans, but the children seemed at ease with the presence of Robbie's wings, just as they were with the elf and his ship.

Her son smirked. "All kinds. And I can do it a lot better than Sportaflop here, that's for sure."

Had she any confidence that walking wouldn't leave her sprawled and aching on the floor, Ana might have gone over to her son and slapped him upside the head for even  _considering_ the prospect of mocking an elf, especially while the elf was sitting there  _listening._ She regarded the elf warily, watching for some flicker of contempt, but the elf only... chuckled, then pressed a hand over his chest and muttered something about ribs hurting.

The elf's weak hiss of pain stirred a memory.

_Don't let them do this, let me just talk to him-_

_Not like this-_

_Keep me away from him-_

_ROBBIE, NO-_

Ana's toes curled against the seat cushions.

The elf's crystal...

She'd found her way inside it, hadn't she? With Íþróttaálfurinn's help, they... she remembered the feeling of having control of his teeth, and his voice, and his teeth digging into his arm, and tasting his blood... 

She'd just wanted to keep her promise. The elf was just a means to that end, but he fought, he distracted her and then  _Robbie-_

Robbie freed the elf from their control.

And then the elf freed Robbie's wings.

Ana shivered. 

The elf laughed again because of something the children said, but the memory of him screaming was all Ana could hear.

 

* * *

 

Their reunion carried on for about another half an hour before Loftskip finally said, "Children, I know you've missed him, but I think it's best if Sportacus keep resting."

Five pairs of eyes looked up at her, and Loftskip considered letting their pleading gazes win her over, but she needed to stand firm. Sportacus would probably disagree with her, but the five children who had somehow ended up practically sitting in his lap wouldn't be able to help him recover nearly as much as a few more good hours of sleep would. 

"It's okay, kids," Sportacus said with a smile. "She's probably right."

"Of course I am," Loftskip stated.

Ziggy stared up at her from the foot of the bed. "Wow. You sound like my Mama. Are you Sportacus's mom?"

On the other side of the bed, Robbie let out a snort. Loftskip ignored him and answered, "I've helped raise Sportacus since he was a little older than you, Ziggy. He is my charge."

"Kind of like you guys are for Sportacus," Robbie commented dryly. 

Loftskip almost nodded in agreement, but she stopped halfway through, and her head sharply turned to look at Robbie. He startled at the sudden movement, brow furrowing, as Loftskip said, "That's it."

Robbie blinked. "...what's what??"

Even Sportacus was giving Loftskip an odd look, and she dragged a hand down her face. Her fans hitched in a stuttering laugh, and she shook her head. "Of course. That explains everything..." Sweeping a gaze over the children, she said, "I know why none of you were affected by the monster's sleep spell."

Stephanie frowned. "Why?"

Loftskip tapped a finger against the side of Sportacus's head. "It's this one's fault. He's taken you on as charges." She gave her elf a bemused look. "It didn't occur to me earlier, but it makes sense."

Now it was Sportacus's turn to look puzzled, giving the children around him a quick glance. "Wait, are you sure? I thought I was-"

"-still too young," Loftskip finished for him. "But apparently not."

"Hey!" Stingy piped up, waving a hand to get their attention. "What're charges?"

"Is it a magic thing?" Trixie asked. 

Loftskip would've smiled at their curiosity, if she had the ability. "Once they reach a certain age, or have trained their magic enough, elves can take on nonmagical places and people as their charges. An elf's charge adapts to their magic, and gains the same types of magical resistance as their elf." As the children's eyes went wide, Loftskip continued, "Elves are immune to most types of sleeping spells, and Sportacus has shared some of that immunity with you, though I don't think he did it on purpose. It also seems that he was only strong enough to take you five into his protection."

Pixel stared at Sportacus, who seemed almost as surprised as the children. "So if you hadn't, like, taken us as your charges, we'd be asleep like our parents?"

Sportacus was slow to nod. "I... think so." He gave them a sheepish grin. "She's right, I didn't do it on purpose... I didn't think I was old enough to have charges yet."

"How old  _are_ you?" Ziggy asked.

Sportacus grinned. "I'm only thirty-four."

"How long do elves live?" Pixel asked eagerly.

Shaking her head, Loftskip stood up, giving Sportacus a pat on the shoulder. "Considerably longer than that, if they actually get their restand stop running headfirst into danger." Ziggy pouted up at her, but the other children only shared a sigh, and slid off the bed. Stephanie reached out and grabbed Sportacus's hand, squeezing it and giving him a worried look that Loftskip often wished she was able to replicate. "Are some of you okay with sleeping on the floor? The ship only has so many beds and couches, but we do have plenty of blankets."

The children exchanged a look. Stephanie looked at Loftskip and said on behalf of the others, "We're all okay with the floor."

"Yeah! It'll be like camping!" Ziggy added. 

Stingy sniffed. "Just don't wake up in the middle of the night screaming about monsters this time, Ziggy."

"But the monster's  _real_ now!" 

Stingy let out a groan and shoved Ziggy away. Loftskip gave Sportacus and Robbie one last look and left the two of them together, and walked over towards the pantry as she sent the airship a digital order, and one of its cabinets in the wall opened up to produce a small avalanche of fluffy white comforters, pillows, and cotton blankets, as well as a few yoga mats that might help make sleeping a little more comfortable. 

As she stepped over to the pantry, and flicked a wrist to open up the folding table, Loftskip couldn't help but glance at the couch in the dimmer side of the airship, and the Seelie woman huddled upon it. Ana was practically curled into the fetal position, with only her head poking up above her knees. Her hands were hidden within her sleeves, which were tucked up to her chest, in a way reminiscent of a shield.

Her sunken blue eyes followed Loftskip's every move.

Loftskip wondered how much Ana remembered - how much she  _knew._

She wondered how much of that indecipherable Seelie stare was fear, or hatred, or indifference. 

It took all of her self control to ignore the glare fixed on her back, and worry about the welfare of the children instead. For the moment they were busy pulling blankets out of the cabinet and spreading them out on the floor about ten feet away from Sportacus's bed. Several of the pillows were body pillows, in addition to one medium-sized old beanbag that Stingy immediately claimed for himself. Within the span of five minutes, the children had assembled a veritable nest of blankets and pillows on the floor of the ship, and Trixie and Stephanie were already halfway into a mock pillow fight.

"Children," Loftskip called before the pillow fight turned deadly, "are any of you interested in dinner?"

Pixel perked his head up. "Is it that time already?"

"It is nearly 6:45," Loftskip answered. 

"It's _what??"_ Sportacus exclaimed. Robbie rolled his eyes and muttered something to the elf, and for a half second Loftskip saw Sportacus's fingers graze the back of Robbie's hand. No one else in the ship seemed to notice, including Ana, whose eyes were now focused on Loftskip's chest, and the crystal faintly glowing upon her armor.

Her airship form's sensors quietly took note of the fact that there was just a sliver of pure fae magic manifesting around Ana. It wasn't even remotely strong enough to be considered a threat, but it hadn't been there an hour ago.

Loftskip kept her sensors alert and began making dinner. 

 

* * *

 

Robbie counted himself lucky he was still on the bed and far away from Loftskip, as the moment she brought the kids plates full of quartered grilled cheese and apple slices, they surrounded her like a horde of wild hyenas, all clambering for food as if they hadn't eaten in a week. Once Loftskip managed to extricate herself from the mob, she brought Sportacus a bowl of fruit salad, and Robbie his own grilled cheese, sans the apples. 

"Make sure he eats all of that," Loftskip said to Robbie, ignoring the disgruntled noise Sportacus made. 

Robbie smirked. "What am I supposed to do, shove it down his throat?"

Loftskip stared blankly at him and walked away without another word. Robbie watched her in confusion as she walked to a unit in the wall, stepped inside, and vanished behind a panel. A moment later the ship's engines hitched, and the lights seemed more vivid, and Robbie heard Sportacus let out a chuckle. He turned to his right to see Sportacus pop a strawberry into his mouth and say, "Poor choice of words, don't you think?"

It took a moment for Robbie to fully register what he'd said. The words were spoken purely out of habit, but in this context...

"Get your brain out of the gutter, Sportadork," Robbie hissed under his breath.

Sportacus raised an eyebrow, and warning sirens went off in Robbie's head.

"Gods, you're  _hopeless,"_ Robbie muttered, practically jumping off of the bed. "You better eat that or she might kill me." Refusing to let his elf get another word in after that, Robbie stalked away from the bed, shoving a quarter of sandwich into his mouth. The kids were chatting among each other in their blanket pile, and Loftskip was probably observing the whole thing, so Robbie returned his focus to the odd one out.

His mother regarded him with emotionless eyes as he approached and crouched down beside the couch. Robbie held up the plate of half-eaten grilled cheese and attempted a small grin. "It actually tastes pretty good, for not having any sugar in it," he murmured, offering her a piece.

Ana shook her head. Robbie glanced at her huddled figure and pursed his lips.

"...do you want to go back to the other side of the ship?"

Her gaze softened, and she nodded slowly. Robbie quickly wolfed down the remainder of his sandwich and scooped his mother into his arms, and the divider obediently opened up as soon as he brushed his shoulder against it. Once on the other side, the noise from the kids faded to a dull, incoherent murmur, and his mother immediately relaxed.

Upon looking down at her face, Robbie realized his mother's eyes were so heavily-lidded that she looked practically half asleep already. He had a nagging suspicion that she was trying to stay awake, trying to pay attention to her surroundings, but he didn't imagine she had much energy to spare. 

Much to his relief, it turned out the couch back on the other side of the ship was movable, and Robbie dragged it back across the divider along with a couple pillows and a few blankets. After setting up as comfortable a sleeping space as he could, Robbie moved his mother to the couch, brushing her hair back from her face and asking, "Ship, could you lose the lights?"

Loftskip's voice came over the speakers.  _"Of course, Robbie."_  
  
At the sound of Loftskip's voice emanating from the ceiling and walls, Ana's hand clutched at Robbie's sleeve. The ship went dark around them, and the only light came from the last vestiges of sunset hues peeking in through the front windows, and what light glowed from the other side of the divider. 

"...Robbie," Ana croaked quietly, still clutching his sleeve, "don't trust her."

Robbie suppressed a sigh. Taking her hand off of his sleeve, he held it between his own and rubbed a thumb over her palm. Her eyes seemed to reflect every bit of light available in the room. "Mom... a lot's changed since you... since you and Glanni disappeared."

"How long?" she whispered.

Robbie blinked. "How-?"

Ana stared at him, jaw tense. "How long has it been since we left you?"

It took a moment for Robbie to come up with an answer. The first few years after losing his mother and uncle were... blurry, to put it mildly. The years tended to bleed together, some of them escaping from memory altogether, but-

"Nineteen years," he answered slowly, and the number felt right. "I'm - I'm thirty-two now." Gritting his teeth, he reiterated, "Things are different now. Sportacus isn't like Íþróttaálfurinn. He's not going to hurt me."

"The  _ship,_ Robbie," Ana breathed, and Robbie realized she was no longer quite looking at his face. Her eyelids were heavy, and she was drooping against the arm of the couch, head pressed into the pillow and arms limp, and faintly shivering. "I know - I know he doesn't want to hurt you." Her fingers picked at the edge of the blanket around her. "I remember - I remember him trying to stop us. But he's not a hunter." Her eyes came back to Robbie's face, for only a second. "You can't trust the hunters, Robbie, no matter how long it's been..."

Her voice trailed off, and her eyes fluttered closed. Robbie stared at her a little while longer, biting the inside of his mouth, and he slowly turned and sat down next to the couch, leaning against it and staring up at the ceiling. The engine thrum in the floor reminded him of just how close Loftskip was, and the question was on the tip of his tongue, but he fought down the urge to ask it. He was too tired to care right now.

He waited for at least another hour, maybe two, listening to his mother breathe. At some point the lights on the other side of the ship went dark, too, and the kids all went quiet. For a while, Robbie couldn't hear anything but the hum of the engines, and the occasional rattle of wind outside the ship. 

Then, after having given himself at least two hours' room for everyone else to fall asleep, he stood up and silently made his way to the divider. Thankfully, it opened up silently, and he crept across the dark interior of the ship towards the barely visible silhouette of Sportacus's bed. For a moment Robbie was worried that the elf might also be asleep, but-

"Robbie?" an accented voice whispered in the darkness, as something creaked on the bed.

Too eagerly, Robbie stepped forward, and his knee promptly encountered the bed frame. It took all of his composure to not let out a shriek, and he teetered on one foot for half a second before collapsing down on the bed over Sportacus's legs, rubbing his knee with a pained wince on his face. He could just barely make out the whites of Sportacus's teeth as he smiled and leaned towards Robbie.

"You should be more careful," Sportacus whispered cheekily.

Robbie scowled. "You're one to talk." His hand fumbled about in the darkness, and it took a half a minute for him to locate one of Sportacus's hands. As soon as he found a set of fingers, he interlaced his with them and squeezed tight. The fingers squeezed back, and Robbie let out the sigh that he'd been holding back for the past few hours, only it came out as a breathy sob instead.

All of a sudden Sportacus's face was clearly visible, taking up almost all of Robbie's line of sight, and he felt the elf's bandages press into his hairline, and he was once again struck with just how warm Sportacus's skin was. 

"I'm sorry, Robbie," Sportacus murmured. "I... I dropped the holding charm on accident, I didn't... I wasn't careful."

"That's what you get for not bringing your  _crystal,"_ Robbie needled, still trying to get his breathing under control. "If Loftskip hadn't - if you'd - I mean, come on, who the hell else are these kids gonna pester for sports advice if you kick the bucket?  _Me?"_

He could tell Sportacus was grinning, and felt a hand come to rest on his cheek.

"I'm okay, Robbie," Sportacus whispered, breath hot on Robbie's face. "I'm not planning on kicking anything but soccer balls for a while."

Robbie rolled his eyes, muttered, "Gods, you're a moron," and leaned forward and kissed Sportacus for the second time. 

 

* * *

 

Stephanie shifted about in her blankets, tugging on a pillowcase. She'd been trying for the past two hours at  _least,_ but sleep hadn't come, and she had a feeling that the other kids weren't much better off. Her nerves wouldn't let her calm down, no matter how much she told herself that she was safe in the airship; the thought of some huge monster lurking in the shadows didn't leave her brain.

When she heard the tiny squeak of the plexiglass divider, her heart nearly jumped out of her rib cage, and she felt the blankets near her rustle as Pixel startled, too.

Her heartbeat only raced faster once she spotted the shadow moving across the airship, but after a moment of watching, she recognized its lanky figure, and felt just a bit better knowing it was only Robbie. Her anxiety slowly faded, only to be replaced with confusion as Robbie smacked into Sportacus's bed, and then sat down upon it, and Sportacus didn't seem to mind at all.

That confusion only intensified the longer she watched Robbie and Sportacus's brief conversation. She couldn't quite hear what they were saying, but she could see the way their hands moved, and how closely together they sat.

"...hey, Pixel? You're awake, right?" she whispered.

The blankets beside her moved, and Pixel's head appeared. "Yeah?"

Stephanie slowly pointed up at Robbie and Sportacus. "Look."

Pixel squinted at the bed, and he and Stephanie watched in silence for not even another minute before the conversation stopped. For a moment, Stephanie was worried that Robbie and Sportacus had noticed them eavesdropping. It didn't help that she heard the other kids moving about, slowly waking up thanks to Pixel and Stephanie making noise.

Upon further squinting, she realized the conversation had stopped for an entirely different reason.

"...huh," Pixel murmured under his breath, eyes the size of dinner plates. "I guess they  _are_ friends." 

 

* * *

 

Sometimes Sportacus wished his ears didn't work nearly as well as they did. Perhaps, if they were less effective, he might have been able to enjoy the taste of Robbie's lips a little bit longer, before he realized that there were voices whispering across the room. Stomach twisting, he pulled away from Robbie more sharply than he'd intended, and in the dark he noticed Robbie's eyes widen in panic.

"...we have an audience," Sportacus murmured.

Robbie's eyes widened further, now more horrified than panicked. He spun around wildly to look behind himself just as Sportacus raised his voice to say, "Kids, you're supposed to be asleep."  _Please don't have noticed please don't have noticed-_

Stephanie sat up from the blankets, balancing on her knees with her blanket wrapped around her. "Sportacus, are you - were you-?"

When Stephanie couldn't quite seem to get the words out, Pixel jumped in. "You two were _holding hands,_ " he said breathlessly. 

"Yeah," Stephanie continued, "and then you-"

Another lump moved in the blankets, and a leg kicked out towards Stephanie. "Will you guys shut up?" Trixie mumbled.

"Whuzgoinon?" a nearly-asleep-sounding Ziggy suddenly asked, slowly rising from a cocoon of blankets.

Robbie let out a groan and dragged both hands down his face. "Why me," Sportacus heard him mutter. " _Why me."_

Stephanie squirmed out of the blanket pile, scooting on her knees right up to the foot of the bed, perching her hands on the edge and eyes darting between Robbie and Sportacus. Her sudden movement stirred the last of the kids, and Stingy awoke with a nasal snort, and Trixie let out an annoyed sigh. Pixel was following Stephanie over to the bed, and Sportacus was finding himself more intimidated by their approach than he had been while facing down the monster.

"You were dreaming," Robbie insisted, voice high-pitched. "That's all."

Pixel stared at Robbie, unimpressed by his bluster. "I'm not dumb, my dads hold hands like that all the time. And they do _other_ stuff," he added with a knowing tone. 

"Who was holding hands?" Stingy yawned, rubbing his face and looking blearily at the bed and the two children crowding up to it. 

"Robbie and Sportacus," Stephanie answered, still narrowing her eyes at the both of them with the utmost scrutiny. "And then-"

"I'd watch what you say next, kid," Robbie snarled lowly, but Sportacus reached out and brushed his shoulder before he could muster some feeble excuse that the kids would see through in an instant. Robbie tensed up at Sportacus's touch, his wings held in a sharp V shape behind his back.

"Robbie," Sportacus murmured, "we should probably tell them."

 _"What?"_ Robbie squeaked, rounding on Sportacus. "They - they don't-"

"You two  _kissed,"_ Stephanie blurted out. 

In the blankets, Trixie shot upright and tripped over Stingy's leg. "Who did _what??"_ Sportacus heard her yelp. By now, Ziggy and Stingy were making their way over to the bed, and Trixie was the last to follow. Robbie's wings drooped as the children circled the bed, all staring at the adults with prying eyes and probably no shortage of questions that Sportacus hoped could wait until morning.

Stingy scratched the side of his nose. "Stephanie, it's too late for jokes."

"Hey, I'm not-"

"No, Stingy," Sportacus said calmly. "She's right."

Robbie groaned and sank his head into his hands. "You traitor," he groused. As Ziggy and Trixie stared at him with widened eyes, Robbie sniffed and muttered, "Oh, don't give me that look, it's not  _that_ weird."

"But-" Trixie sputtered. "You two weren't even  _friends_ like, last week!"

"Is it  _normal_ for heroes to kiss villains?" Ziggy asked, sounding more curious than confused, which Sportacus counted as a blessing.

Robbie folded his arms over his chest. "No, but it's apparently normal for Robbies to kiss Sportacuses, and it's normal for kids to  _mind their own business,"_ he grumbled sourly. 

"Are you two, like, _dating?"_ Pixel asked in a mystified tone. 

Sportacus's tongue fumbled around a possible answer to that, mostly because he didn't really know, but Robbie came to his rescue. The half-fae shrugged and muttered, "Sure, why not. We're 'dating'. Now would you five  _please_ go to sleep?? It's too late for your usual interrogations." 

For a moment, the kids looked like they wanted to argue, but a yawn from both Ziggy and Stingy seemed to help drive home Robbie's suggestion.

"How come you didn't tell us?" Stephanie asked quietly. 

Sportacus sighed. "I... we would have eventually, Stephanie, but everything that's been happening... it didn't seem too important."

The girl frowned. "Obviously it's important, if you're dating that means Robbie's  _happy,_ and I don't think I've ever seen him happy before."

"Yeah," Pixel added, before he succumbed to a long yawn. "I mean, that  _is_ how dating works, right?"

A smile split Sportacus's face. "...yes. I'm pretty sure that's how it's supposed to work. But Robbie's right, you kids need your sleep."

"Hey," Robbie added quickly as the kids began to slink back to their blanket nest, "don't - don't talk about this in front of anyone else, okay?"

"Okay," the kids chorused as they sluggishly returned to their blankets, whispering among themselves.

Robbie turned back to Sportacus, gritting his teeth so hard that Sportacus could see a vein in his jaw tense. "They better not bring this up in front of my mom. That is a conversation I do  _not_ want to have yet." Rubbing the back of his neck, Robbie murmured, "Speaking of which, I should - I should probably go back to her. I don't think it's a good idea to leave her alone for long..."

"Go," Sportacus insisted with a soft grin. "Take care of her. And please, you need to get some sleep, too."

Robbie snorted. "I'll try."

As he stood up from the bed and turned back towards the divider, Sportacus impulsively reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

"Robbie."

His fairy turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Hm?"

Sportacus dragged Robbie back down for just a heartbeat and stole another kiss, and he could feel Robbie grinning as their lips met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY SPORTABOI IS AWAKE AND NOW THE KIDS KNOW ABOUT HIM AND ROBBIE BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY DO, THE NOSY LIL SHITS
> 
> *whispers* how long can I stall before I have to address the issue of the monster who's still chilling down in Lazytown's streets
> 
> I'm leaving for a camping trip this week, so that'll be fun, only I won't be online to see all the glorious comments... le sigh


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy. Late update. Yike. Don't worry, I'm still here!
> 
> -
> 
> A little preface before we get into this chapter: by now I'm sure at least some of you have heard about Stefan Karl's cancer progressing to stage 4. If you hadn't, I'm so sorry you have to hear about it from me. I am devastated by the news, and doing my best to maintain hope, because I'm sure his family doesn't want to get bogged down by the internet's usual misery and negativity, and also because I am not going to mourn him until I'm damn sure this world is strong enough to take Plant Dad away from us (and I'm not convinced quite yet).
> 
> This reassurance may be small, or selfish, or some combo of the two, but despite how much my heart is aching over Stefan's still continuing battle with this stupid ass disease, I am not going to let this fic die on me. I know many of you really enjoy and look forward to it, and it's one of my favorite things to write. I'm still trying to write my own book and if nothing else, this news has galvanized my resolve to do something productive with my life.
> 
> Curled Up, Died, And Now It's Rotten isn't going anywhere, my friends. I'm sticking with it, and I hope you all stick with me, too. <3 <3 <3

Sometime in the early morning, long after the children were finally asleep, alongside Sportacus and Robbie and Ana, the ship's engines hitched faintly. The lights dimmed just enough to be noticeable, had anyone else been awake, and as the ship righted itself, a hatch opened up on its underside, and a figure dropped silently to the ground, landing with a flip onto her curved metal legs.

Aside from a handful of fireflies, there seemed to be no life in Lazytown. An oppressive stillness enveloped Loftskip as she ducked from shadow to shadow, sometimes going from ground to roof and then back down. Save for a singular gas station whose lights always seemed to be lit, and its store always curiously bereft of employees, there were no lights in any of the houses in Lazytown. 

Loftskip sprang onto the top of a set of monkey bars in the largest of Lazytown's playgrounds. A small cluster of black flies darted past her head, and she watched them join a cloud forming above the street.

The sun wasn't quite rising yet, but the sky was already gray with the looming threat of morning.

The black flies churned.

Two mismatched jaws snapped at them, teeth too sharp and yellowed, skin of the face swollen with insect bites.

Loftskip remained perfectly still on the monkey bars, her presence either unnoticed, or ignored - she guessed the former over the latter. The monster in the street rubbed its back along what was left of a tree trunk, before swatting at the cloud of flies. The arm - gnarled with bark, perhaps with more elbows than it should've had - missed and impacted on a crumbling concrete wall instead. With a hiss, the monster lowered one head at the wall, rubbing its lip over the rubble, while the other head, topped with its mess of blonde hair, continued snarling at the flies.

Half-masked by an enormous fleshy leaf, the one head gnawed on a chunk of concrete. A moment later, Loftskip heard a choking sound, and then a wheeze.

The one with the blonde hair and the faint vestiges of a mustache cocked its head at its other half, and let out a sound that was halfway between a raspy growl and a purr. The other head only ducked away and hissed, neck straining as if to pull away from the body. After a minute of fruitless effort to that end, the head sank down and shook once, and nudged the neck of the other, teeth grazing the flesh and leaving dents.

A droning hiss constantly surrounded the monster, shifting just so with every movement. It reminded Loftskip of air escaping an inflatable mattress, or perhaps more accurately, a cluster of snakes giving off a warning hiss.

The hiss came from Glanni. That much she knew.

Fairies hissed when they were angry, or at least the young ones did. To her knowledge, Robbie didn't hiss quite like that, but perhaps it was a learned trait, a feature of the Courts manifesting and claiming ownership. She'd heard that hiss too many times before, but it was worse to encounter the older fae; where elves stood with tensed energy, low purrs in their throats, grown Seelies were perfectly silent.

Much like Ana.

That Seelie silence was worse than Unseelie laughter. A perfect stillness that even Loftskip couldn't imitate.

Another hiss. Loftskip's attention returned to the monster in time to see Íþró's head shoot up, ears twitching and nostrils flaring as he scented out the air around him.

Loftskip didn't wait around to see if she was the target of the creature's interest; two handsprings in the opposite direction and she was gone from sight.

 

* * *

 

 **Gasoline** _._

Their head snapped up, tongue lolling out to taste the air, finding a reek that promised fire.

The other head dropped low, twisting on a too-long neck, swiveling around to look beneath them and behind as their body tensed. 

**_where-?_ **

Their heads locked onto the playground behind them. 

One swing was creaking, back and forth. A few patches of wood chips were disturbed around the slide. Other than that, there was no sign of life, no sign of an intruder, an  _enemy._

**...gone.**

_**was it-** _

**Yes, yes - blue upon black.**

**_Don't let her-_ **

**I won't.**

Their wings fluttered, straining for the sky, but the weight of all their legs and the heavy tail of flesh hanging from their back, shedding something that might have been pine needles or bone splinters, kept them down. The ground beneath them was too hard - at least below it was damp and dark, even in the gray before morning it was too bright out in the open. Too much concrete, not enough-

**_Not enough-_ **

**I'm sorry-**

_**Not enough.** _

 

* * *

 

.  
.  
**N̷̢̧͓̰͇͇̹̮̟̞̓͌̈̋̄͗̋̿͗͞o̡̢̗̭̼͂̈́̃̕͟͠t̹̻̼̮͎͚̰̿̌̉̋͢͡ͅ ẹ̡̘͔͖̈̓̿̃͘͟͟ͅń̸̝̮̻̥͙̹͖̥̰̍͊̌̉̋̑͞ȯ̵̡̧̮̰͚̃̈́̅̓͢ű̯̱̞͓̦̺͚͌̽̿̈́̓̂̿͟͟g̵̢̼̹̝̝͗̑́̈͢͞ͅͅh̷̨̤̦̻̻̰̲̖̾̓͒͋͌̆̉͆̚͢.̡̨̹͈̝̤͍̲̏̈͒̓̚͟.̸̨̠̰͍̳̘̮̾͋͐̅̏̌̃͜͝͠.̴͉̱̯̠̝̟̭͇̎̈̉͑̽̚̚͜ͅ**  
.  
.

 

* * *

 

Robbie woke up to the feeling of the airship lurching. He shot upwards off the floor, arms and wings pinwheeling briefly before the ship righted itself. After a handful of panicked breaths, he rubbed his eyes and shot a wild look at the ceiling.

"Are we under attack??"

The lights were still dim around him, but when he spoke, they brightened slowly.  _"No,"_ came the now soothingly familiar voice of Loftskip,  _"merely some turbulence as I was coming back."_

Robbie raised a dubious eyebrow and hauled himself off the floor. "Coming back? Where did you go?" He stretched both arms over his head, and his back gave off a sickening series of cracks, and the rush of standing up made his vision go momentarily black.

 _"A brief excursion to the town."_ The engine stuttered.  _"I went by the park. The monster is... restless."_

Robbie froze with his arms over his head, and cast a worried glance down at his mother. She hadn't moved since he'd last seen her; she laid perfectly tucked into the arm of the couch, blanket barely even rumpled. Robbie wondered if she'd even moved the slightest inch while she slept. For the moment, she still seemed deep in slumber. He'd half expected her to fly awake the moment the monster was mentioned.

Keeping his voice soft so as not to accidentally wake her, Robbie raised a brow at the ceiling and asked, "Don't you think that's, I don't know,  _stupidly_ dangerous?"

 _"I am faster than you or Sportacus,"_ Loftskip answered plainly.  _"And more attentive."_

"Oh, and  _that_ makes it okay?" 

The lights dimmed again.  _"Robbie. I am fine. My sensors cannot observe the monster in close detail. We need to understand its mental state as best we can, and I cannot do that at a distance."_

Robbie made a show of rolling his eyes, not caring about whether Loftskip could actually see it. "Look, one elf running around getting himself into danger is enough for me, okay? So could you maybe  _tell_ one of us next time?"

_"You were asleep."_

"Then leave a damn note!" Robbie snapped, doing his best to not yell outright. "Trust me, the last thing I want is  _more_ people vanishing without a trace, and I'm pretty sure Sportacus would agree with me!"

Given the way the lights dimmed even further, Robbie assumed that Loftskip wasn't going to acknowledge him. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he glanced at the divider and considering going and rifling through the pantry for what remained of his sugar-packed cereal. He wanted to see if his mother was up to eating anything substantial, but for the moment he had a feeling sleep was better for her.

Slouching his way over to the divider, Robbie put his hand up to prompt the plexiglas to open, but just before he touched it, he heard Loftskip murmur,  _"I apologize, Robbie. I am confidant in my ability to avoid harm, but I... understand your worries. I will not leave without warning again."_

Robbie's fingers curled to his palm, and his hand dropped away from the door. Rocking from heel to toe slightly, wings drooping, he craned his neck back and said with a faint smile, "You know, you're just as bad as him, sometimes." 

 _"I don't know what you're talking about,"_ she replied, walls and ceiling brightening.  _"I bear no similarities to that young man in any way, shape, or form. What a wild accusation."_

A laugh bubbled in Robbie's throat, but died halfway out his mouth as his brain flashed between Loftskip's words and yesterday's conversation with his mother.

_No similarities._

He bit the inside of his mouth. 

"...Loftskip?"

The engine hummed.  _"Yes, Robbie?"_

Nose twitching, Robbie fidgeted with the collar of his sweater, both hands some extent clenched from uncertainty. With no one else awake, he figured now would be the best time to ask, but on the other hand... he was suddenly acutely aware of the enormity of the ship around him, all its metal and its thrumming engine and its curious lack of iron.

"Do you know anything about - about hunter ships?" 

For a moment, nothing in the ship seemed to change. Robbie winced, expecting some kind of reaction - the engine malfunctioning, the lights going black, or blinding, _something_ _._ Instead the ship carried on as normal, slowly circling over Lazytown, wind and engine the only sound Robbie could hear.

The only sound he could hear that was out of the ordinary was a faint scraping somewhere on the other side of the ship. 

But the kids were also shifting about.

It was probably only them.

 

* * *

 

The glow returned to the crystal in Loftskip's auxiliary form. The locker where her body was kept was dark save for the light around her chest, and that light flickered with such intensity it made the armor of her torso grow hot.

Optic lenses shuttered almost to the point of being closed, she tried to stay as still as possible, making no sound.

Her hands were trembling.

After a few seconds, just the darkness wasn't enough. Her fingers splayed, and she dug her claws into the metal of her locker, scraping down the metal with a soft screech. Her fans tried to cool her down, but each time they started up they stopped, and then hurried to restart, stopped again-

She bent forward and touched her head to the wall, claws dragging shallow gouges into the metal.

Her crystal burned.

She made herself stay there for only a little less than a minute before her consciousness bled through her hands back into the metal and then into the airship's core.

 

* * *

 

After almost a minute of silence, Robbie grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes at the ship. "Loftskip? Are you-"

The ceiling flickered.

_"I'm here, Robbie."_

He raised an eyebrow. "What's with the silent treatment?" 

_"You caught me by surprise. I was... unaware you knew of such things."_

Robbie supposed there was no point in lying; Loftskip would piece things together quickly enough. "My - my mother brought it up. Yesterday."  _No iron, no iron, not a hero-_ "She didn't really give specifics, but she - she was scared."

_"...it is understandable. Hunter ships are an unfortunate part of elvish history."_

The question sat on the tip of Robbie's tongue, uncomfortable as the taste of 'sportscandy'. 

But there was an equally important - to Robbie, at least - question that had only just now sprung into is mind.

"They sound - they sound important," he started, trying not to let his voice get too strained, or too high-pitched. "The kind of thing worth mentioning, right? You'd think - you'd think Sportacus might've mentioned it." 

Beneath his feet, the engine rumbled.  _"It is not the kind of thing worth mentioning,"_ Loftskip said after a moment of silence,  _"nor the kind of thing Sportacus would know much about. Hunters were a part of the war between our people and yours. That war is now over. There is not much left to be said on the matter."_

"...you sure about that?" Robbie muttered under his breath.

Loftskip paused.  _"If it is of that much importance to you, Robbie, we may discuss it further, but I think it should wait until we have dealt with Glanni and Íþró."_

"Is it really that complicated to explain?" Robbie asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

_"Yes."_

Pursing his lips, Robbie let out a sigh and shrugged one shoulder. "Fine, but - I want to know, Loftskip." He needed to know. Needed to know if his mother was right, but if she was and Robbie had been  _wrong_ this whole time - no, he hadn't, he couldn't have been. Loftskip wouldn't hurt him, he believed that - he needed to. But his mother was - well, _her_. She'd been protecting Robbie a lot longer than Loftskip had.

_"I understand, Robbie. Believe me, I do. But I assure you, hunters are not something you need to worry about. The war is over and they are not a threat anymore."_

His mother had mentioned a war before. Or at least insinuated that it had happened.

He wondered how long it had been since it was over.

Robbie mustered a feeble grin and brushed his hand over the plexiglass and went to rifle through the pantry. 

 

* * *

 

"Hey! Hey Stephanie!"

A foot landed - relatively gently - on her thigh. The sleeping bag around her absorbed most of the impact, but whoever had kicked her immediately changed tactics to rough shaking until she stuck her head out and scowled up at them. Naturally, she found Trixie above her, grinning. "Robbie's making us hot cocoa for breakfast! And Lucky Charms! Wake up!"

Stephanie rubbed her eyes. "...it's not morning  _already?"_

"Yep!" Trixie scrambled to her feet, pigtails an absolute mess. Stephanie figured she didn't look much better. "I didn't sleep much either. But Robbie's hot cocoa is  _great._ He let me have two cups already."

Well, that explained the energy. And the kicking, though really, did Trixie ever need an excuse to kick things? Or people? Still grousing mildly over the dent in her thigh, Stephanie stretched her arms out and wiggled around in the sleeping bag, eventually extracting herself from it with not too much effort. Taking a glance around the impromptu sleeping pile, she noticed she was the only one left among all the blankets. Everyone else was circled around a white table on the far side of the room, crowding Robbie as he fended them off from the microwave, arms and wings splayed a bit like a startled tree frog. 

Stephanie blinked.

Right.

Robbie had wings. 

Robbie was a  _fairy._

That was... still going to take some getting used to. 

A noise to her left - a quiet chuckle - reminded her that  _ears_ were also a new revelation, alongside the wings, and as she glanced at Sportacus's bed, she also remembered last night. When it was  _very_ late and she probably should've been more worried about sleep, because she still felt dead tired and her mouth felt a bit like she'd pasted cotton all over her tongue.

Somehow, Robbie and Sportacus dating was the  _least_ confusing thing about this whole situation. In fact, the domesticity of it was pretty comforting.

If, despite a big monster and getting hurt a lot, Robbie and Sportacus were able to be happy with each other, then that meant the situation wasn't  _all_ horrible and bad. Just mostly.

"Hey, Pinkie!" Robbie suddenly shouted gruffly from the ship's 'kitchen'. "If you want cocoa, you better get it fast, I don't think I can hold off Trixie and Ziggy at once-"

"Didn't you fight a monster, though?" Pixel pointed out around a spoonful of Lucky Charms.

Robbie made a show of rolling his eyes and swatted Ziggy's hand away from the mug of cocoa that was evidently being saved for Stephanie. "Yeah, and look how well _that_ turned out. My leg  _still_ hurts."

Stephanie grinned at the familiar, blunt snark in Robbie's voice. Usually she didn't like to hear it, since it meant Robbie was trying to get in the way of their games, but now... she got up from the sleeping bags and hurried over to the table, gratefully accepting the mug of cocoa just before Trixie made a run for it. Stephanie stuck out her tongue and took refuge next to Stingy, who was currently hoarding an entire bag of Lucky Charms for himself.

Once Stephanie joined them, Robbie tucked the remaining hot cocoa pouches into a wall shelf, and took out a few assorted fruits. Giving the fruit a mild glare, he assembled it into a bowl - grapes, apples, one banana and an orange - and cracked his neck a few times before he turned around back towards the other side of the room. The moment he turned, however, he tensed up so suddenly that Stephanie was surprised he didn't drop the bowl.

"What are you  _doing??"_ Robbie screeched. 

All in unison, the kids' heads snapped around to look at what had Robbie so startled. 

Across the room, at the end of his bed, Sportacus froze up with a guilty look on his face. His  _upside-down_ face.

"...handstands?" the hero answered slowly, giving Robbie a sheepish smile. Or at least it looked sheepish. He still lacked a shirt, which meant the bandages on his upper chest were still perfectly visible, but they didn't seem to restrict Sportacus's movement nearly enough. 

" _Handsta_ -" Robbie sputtered, shoving the bowl onto the table with a clatter. He pointed at the pile of plastic bags sitting next to the wall, a few feet away from the table. "Pinkie, I've got duct tape in the bag with all my shirts. Grab it, would you?"

Even as Stephanie rummaged around for the duct tape, Sportacus dropped down onto his feet and stood up with arms raised defensively. "Robbie, I don't think that's necessary-"

"Of course it is!" Robbie barked, cracking his knuckles. And his neck. Stephanie wondered if skeletons were supposed to  _do_ that. "Pinkie-"

"Found it," Stephanie said with a grin, tossing a roll of tape to Robbie. Stingy was still too focused on his cereal to care at the moment, but Pixel and Trixie were watching the showdown with rapt attention, and Ziggy was the only one bothering to look a little worried. As soon as Robbie had his hands on the tape, he tugged out a long strip, holding it up aggressively in front of him. 

"Duct tape is  _exactly_ necessary," Robbie said, advancing upon Sportacus, "seeing as it has somehow escaped your notice that you are  _injured_ and doing  _exercise_ isn't going to help make you  _less_ injured! In fact you'll probably make it worse! I'm sure Loftskip agrees with me," he added, flashing a look at the ceiling.

The ship said nothing. Robbie scowled. "Oh, the silent treatment again?"

Finally the ship's lights flashed softly.  _"I was occupied. Minor sensor glitch. But yes, Sportacus, until your injuries are healed I think you should refrain from handstands, at the very least."_

Sportacus pouted at the ceiling. "Come on, guys, I'm fine-"

"Those two words have never been spoken truthfully in all of history," Robbie retorted. By now Trixie and Pixel were giggling outright, and by the way Robbie's wings perked up, Stephanie gathered their amusement was only encouraging him. "I won't use the duct tape on one condition; you actually come over here and sit  _still,_ and keep sitting until breakfast is over."

Sportacus raised an eyebrow. "And after breakfast?"

Loftskip's voice interrupted their banter.  _"After breakfast I would like to examine your injuries. It is likely they have not fully healed, but there is a possibility they have. I would just like to be sure."_ After a momentary pause, she continued,  _"If you are not fully healed, I will allow Robbie to resort to duct taping you to the bed. Or the floor. Or the wall. Whichever is easiest."_

Giving a mild frown to both Robbie and the airship, Sportacus let out a sigh and nodded. "I'll sit still for breakfast. Please don't duct tape me to the wall, Robbie."

Robbie's eyes were still narrowed. "Put on a shirt," he muttered, slowly rolling the duct tape back up.

Sportacus grinned. "Ship?"

A panel in the wall opened, and a shirt flew out and smacked into Sportacus's arm. Ziggy let out a small gasp of amazement, while Trixie only looked disappointed. "I wanted to see Robbie try and duct tape Sportacus," she mumbled as Stephanie returned to the breakfast table. "I bet it'd be funny."

"Yeah," Pixel mused, before he let out a yelp and yanked his bowl to the side. "Stingy, you've got your own entire  _bag,_ hands off!" 

"But yours have more of the horseshoes!" Stingy whined. "Those taste better!"

"They're all marshmallows, they taste the same-"

"Ooh!" Ziggy interrupted, suddenly leaning over his spot of the table, eyes darting between his cocoa and his cereal. "If they're marshmallows, do you think they'd be good in hot chocolate?"

The man on Ziggy's right let out a groan, followed by a loud slapping sound. Stephanie had never seen a double facepalm before. She hoped Robbie hadn't accidentally broken his nose. She noticed Sportacus giving him a sympathetic look as he came and joined the kids at the table, picking through the grapes Robbie had provided for him. For a moment Sportacus leaned over and whispered something in Robbie's ear, and Robbie shot him a glare that didn't look even halfway unhappy.

She could've sworn Robbie was grinning. Sincerely. She'd never seen  _that,_ either.

It was distracting enough to make her forget about the rest of Lazytown.

Then she heard the plexiglass slide open behind her, and instead of milk and chocolate and sugary cereal, all she could smell was cinnamon. 

 

* * *

 

The floor felt cold beneath the soles of her feet. With every step she took, her toes curled, anticipating the harsh bite of iron, but nothing came. The ship itself lacked any kind of smell, except perhaps the distant trace of gasoline. Its clinical  _bareness_ \- no dirt, no mess, almost no trace of  _living -_ struck a chord of unease. Earlier she'd been too absorbed in keeping herself protected, and hadn't  _looked._

Courts were a far cry from being  _pleasant,_ but at least they felt alive.

The only sign of habitation was in the bedding on the floor, and the children sitting at a table, all their eyes fixed upon her as she slowly made her way out from behind the plexiglass. She still walked with a hunch, and a slow shuffle, but despite that, the children seemed awestruck at her presence.

Her gaze went to the elf, for once not dressed in the familiar attire of a hero. He looked a bit more intimidating than the children did, and Ana allowed herself a moment of vindication at the sight. 

"Mom," Robbie gasped, standing from the table, ramrod straight. "You - you're walking."

Ana nodded slowly, coming to a halt a few feet away from the table. The children were mercifully silent - she'd heard their bombardment of questions yesterday - and so was the elf, for the moment. The airship, too, had made no acknowledgement of her presence, but that was far from comforting. 

She sniffed. There was chocolate in the vicinity. "Cocoa for breakfast, Robbie?" she asked, her voice still hoarse, scraping in her throat. It seemed to be taking the longest to improve, along with her magic. Her memory, oddly, was returning the quickest, and her ability to walk and move with ease wasn't far behind.

Robbie blinked. "We - we used to do that, too. Remember?"

Another nod. "I remember..." The children were wide-eyed when she looked at them. "They're human, aren't they? Sugar isn't as healthy for them." Or - yes, that was right. Humans were closer to elves than fae. They could handle their sugar far better, but their teeth had certain disagreements with it, in the form of cavities and other such diseases.

Robbie scratched the back of his neck. "They got dragged into this mess, I think they deserve some spoiling."

The children  _beamed_ at Robbie. Especially the youngest one. Robbie seemed to shy away from their excitement, closer - closer to the  _elf._

The elf didn't seem to mind. In fact, he chuckled. Ana wished she could hear deceit, or malice, in his tone, but she  _couldn't._

His  _face_ still set off alarm sirens in her head, but she couldn't figure out why. Her memories may have been coming back, but her instincts were still too vague, too encompassing. The nuances, the details, were still a fog. Her mind insisted on operating in black and white for now; threats against non-threats, pain against safety. The gray areas were  _too_ gray, too unpredictable. A lesser evil only registered as  _evil_ in her mind right now. 

Danger - past, present, or potential - was all the same.

Even Robbie was a gray area to her now.

Her trust in him -  _that,_ she knew. It was one of the few things.

The other thing she  _knew_ was that even though her magic was still not back to full strength, it was  _there,_ and it was shaping itself, and fanning out to see-

She saw black flies.

Saw the heat in the sky - too far away.

The heat of the bodies on the ground was closer.

Ana swayed on her feet, blinked twice, and the vision was gone, but she still felt as if her body was moving, despite standing perfectly still. Her bones seemed to pull forward, muscles tensed with the pull and release of running, running-

"Mom?"

Ana's attention was roughly yanked back to the ship, and her son, with his brow furrowed and his lip almost a pout - a familiar expression, just a bit more weathered. "Mom, you - you okay? You went pale all of a sudden-"

In the floor, Ana felt the engine flutter. In her peripheral vision, she saw a compartment in the wall opened, and the hunter stepped out into the room, even as she raised her voice. She barely spoke louder than a murmur, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop. 

"They're on the move. I can feel them." 

_Running. Running._

"They're going after the people still in town."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws down fireworks bomb and parkours out the window* happy america day i am a patriot for today and today only


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we return to our regularly scheduled Seat-Of-Our-Pants shenanigans, with a side order of Heroism and Recklessness

Sportacus had only a few seconds to try and process Ana's frightening declaration before all the kids starting shouting at once.

"The monster's gonna hurt our parents??" Trixie shrieked.

"It's not going to go all the way to find my nana, is it?" Stingy squeaked.

Pixel and Ziggy simultaneously blurted out something along the desperate lines of, "You can't let it!"

Stephanie was staring at Ana as the Seelie slowly walked up to stand among them. "How - how do you know??" she whispered, doing her best to hide her fear, but failing.

Ana stared at the floor. Sportacus noticed her fingers moving in a slow ripple. "I can feel them," she repeated, as if that was all the explanation needed.

Before the kids had a chance to descend into full-blown hysteria, Sportacus stood up and insisted, "Kids, please calm down. We're not going to let the monster hurt your parents."

A raspy voice interrupted him. He tried not to look directly in Ana's eyes, no matter how fiercely she was glaring at him. "A monster? Is that all they are to you?"

Sportacus couldn't help but bristle, just a bit. "For all intents and purposes - yes. Right now, they're a monster, and I'm  _not_ going to let them hurt anyone else in Lazytown." Turning to Loftskip as she approached the table, he asked, "What's the safest building in Lazytown?"

Loftskip cocked her head to one side. "City hall, most likely. It has the most defensible position."

"Sportacus," Robbie murmured, "you have an idea?"

Mustering as optimistic a smile as he could, Sportacus explained, "The three of us can split up and get the townsolk out of their houses. If we put them all in one place, we'll be able to protect them easier." He felt the tension in the room fade with every word he spoke, and he was no small amount of grateful for it. "Obviously we'll try and make sure the monster can't get near them to begin with. But we can't land the ship right now to get any of your parents, that'd just put all of you in more danger, and I'm sure your parents wouldn't appreciate that," he said to the kids.

Fortunately, most of them seemed to understand. Ziggy looked the most uneasy with Sportacus's explanation, quietly asking, "But what if you get hurt again, Sportacus?"

His ears rang. 

"I won't," he answered in a clipped tone. "I promise."

The ringing didn't stop.

Ignoring it became increasingly frustrating as mere seconds passed. Even forcing a smile was becoming difficult. "I got hurt last time because we weren't prepared, and I wasn't careful." The words sat on his tongue, as uncomfortable as the ringing in his head. "And I didn't have my crystal with me."

He felt Robbie stiffen beside him, and all he wanted was to lean into the man's shoulder and have Robbie card his fingers through his hair and watch the vivid purple glow of his wings-

Ana was right there, staring at him.

He wondered just how much she remembered about what she'd done. Or if she cared about the ringing it'd left in Sportacus's head.

Stephanie stared at him in confusion. "But you  _always_ have your crystal."

Sportacus shook his head. "I didn't last time. It - something happened to it." He made a point of not looking at Ana. "I didn't think it was safe to use anymore, but... I'm not as strong as I can be when I don't have it. And I'm not going to risk your parents by going down there without it."

The lingering fear that he would be more of a risk  _with_ the crystal went unsaid. As Loftskip had reminded him, several nights ago, he couldn't put this off forever. Eventually the ringing would be too much to bear, and his magic would stop coming back, and he'd stop healing, and then-

Elves  _needed_ their crystals.

Apparently he didn't even need to ask out loud. He heard the wall slide open behind him. As he turned, fists clenching and relaxing over and over again, he heard Robbie say, "What's with all the long faces? Has Sportacus ever not kept a promise he made to you?"

He heard a mumbled assortment of "No" after that, and could've kissed Robbie right then and there for coming to his rescue, but the white and blue flashing thing in the tiny wall compartment held all of his attention. Only Loftskip was hovering nearby, just two feet to his left, her own crystal pulsing slowly. 

Dropping into Elvish, Sportacus quietly asked,  _"Don't let me hurt them."_

She nodded.  _"Now stop stalling, litla hetja."_

Later on, he would question why no one seemed to react when he reached out and wrapped his hand around his crystal, because he  _probably_ should've screamed, and kept screaming for maybe ten minutes, but Robbie was still saying the same reassuring sentence he'd started before Sportacus touched the crystal, so only a few seconds must have passed-

The moment his skin touched the crystal, it felt like sticking his hand into a bowl of dry ice. And then his whole arm, and then his entire body. The strobe lights the crystal gave off were so bright they should've blinded everyone in the ship, but again, no one else seemed to notice. Robbie's voice faded to nothingness, overwhelmed by the high-pitched ringing that had been plaguing Sportacus since he'd woken up yesterday.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to weather the rising and falling screech, like a distant air raid siren;  _y_ _ou-left-me. You-left-me._

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was scared._

It flashed blue and white and shrieked like polished stones scraping against each other.

There was no red. Nor blue or black or - or gold. 

No chlorine smell, or cinnamon, or ink or leather or burning rubber-

 _I'm sorry,_ he repeated in his mind as he held the crystal to his chest. The cold sensation slowly ebbed away, leaving behind a familiar warmth, a sense of belonging and  _fullness_ that had been missing for what, five days now? Six?

Since he'd received his crystal at the age of seven, he hadn't been away from it for more than a day.

"Sportacus," Loftskip intoned, holding out a hand. "Here."

Slowly glancing down, Sportacus found she was holding out his vest. His eyes locked onto the empty crystal chamber at the front, and as he slipped the vest over his shoulders and buckled it at the front and returned the crystal to its rightful place, the ringing in his ears finally faded away. Flexing his hands in front of his chest, he felt a surge of magic pulse through him. 

Loftskip's vents huffed. "I suppose you won't need those bandages anymore," she said.

Sportacus raised an eyebrow. "...are you sure?" he questioned, reaching a hand beneath his shirt and tugging at the gauze. 

"Your crystal's been stockpiling its magic. You were already mostly healed, anyway. Just don't reopen your injuries and you should be fine."

This time, his smile wasn't forced. "Thank you, ship." 

Her optic lenses shifted. "...would you rather call me by name now?"

Sportacus's smile faltered. "Not - not right now. Maybe later - it's what  _he_  called you. It doesn't sound right when I say it. I'm sorry."

She gave a short stutter of her fans that sounded like a laugh. "It's fine, litla hetja. Besides, you might do well to refrain from calling me my name until this situation is resolved. It  _is_ what tipped me off about your possession, remember?"

It took all of Sportacus's focus not to look back over his shoulder. "I remember."

"Keep it in mind. And please do not stress your crystal too much. It may take time for it to fully adjust to you again," she advised, before turning and walking back to the table. Sportacus allowed himself one more moment to  _feel_ his crystal's energy - and the faint bits of cold still clinging to its edges - before he joined the rest of his friends. The kids seemed to have calmed down, more or less, and Robbie was watching him expectantly as he came back.

"Good," he muttered upon seeing Sportacus. "I take it you're still you?"

Sportacus nodded. "Still me."

"Wait, why wouldn't he be him?" Pixel asked.

"Long story," Robbie said quickly. "We'll tell you later. For now-"

"They're moving faster," Ana interrupted. "Robbie. I am coming with you."

Robbie flinched. "Mom - I - are you sure??"

"I can walk," she murmured. "If I can do that, I can run. I am not staying here while you are down there with  _them_."

Sportacus couldn't quite tell if 'them' was the monster, or himself and Loftskip, or both.

Loftskip raised her voice. "Children, there is plenty of food in the pantry, and you know where the games are. We will return soon."

"Stay safe!" Stephanie said hastily.

Sportacus smiled. "We will." 

 

* * *

 

Getting down to Lazytown without landing the ship took some...  _interesting_ gymnastics, to say the least. In the end, Robbie had to convince his mother that the ladder wasn't going to drop them, and then Loftskip lowered them both to the ground, and the elf/elvish android did their usual dramatic free-falling to join them. The ship itself maintained its slow circle overhead, and without the chattering of the kids, Lazytown felt deathly quiet.

"I'll get the Mayor and Bessie, and everyone else in the north quadrant of town," Sportacus said, giving the others a grim look. "Be careful."

"Maybe take your own advice for once," Robbie said with an aloof wave of the hand. He wished he could've said a proper  _you be careful, too,_ but - his mother was standing  _right there._

"I am the fastest. I will get Stingy's nana," Loftskip said.

Robbie bit his lip. "Trixie and Ziggy's houses are pretty close. Mom and I can get them, then Pixel's dads-"

A roar shook the air.

It wasn't close  _yet,_ but Robbie had a feeling it wouldn't be taking the long route. 

The distant sound of wood splintering, not unlike a wrecking ball against a house, only confirmed his theory.

"Be careful," Sportacus insisted again.

One last lingering look, and they each took off towards the houses and the sleeping townsfolk within.

 

* * *

 

**See them. See heat.**

_**Them-?** _

**Maybe-**

There was a lot of heat - a lot of bodies. But some of them could've been lies. Ghostly phantoms meant to confuse. There'd been a glamour here once, that much they knew, either from knowing or remembering - it was strong, once, but it was fading. Any one of the bodies could be a lie, but all of them were warm, and buzzing with  _life-_

Outside,  _far_ outside, there was more  _life_ and more energy and more  _power,_ but-

**_DON'T GO THERE-_ **

**We won't-**

_**We can't-** _

**We WON'T.**

They snarled and shoved their way through another house and crawled across the intersection.

 

* * *

 

Ana could feel them. Their magic ebbed through the ground with every footfall.

Part of it was deep, deep blue - Glanni's blue.

The rest was the painful red that took her wings.

Her fingers twitched.

Her magic wasn't coming back fast enough.

"They're coming," she murmured to her son, as she helped him carry the last person to the town hall. "They're coming."

 

* * *

 

Once every unconscious adult in Lazytown was safe inside the town hall, Sportacus met the others back out in the town square, and just in the nick of time as part of a building crumbled to rubble, and a twisting mass of limbs and doubled heads and tree branches shouldered its way into the street through an alleyway. Bits of trash and shingles stuck to its back, and both heads hung low, tense and snarling.

Sportacus's crystal started wailing.

 _I know, I KNOW,_ he insisted, and it went quiet.

Loftskip was on his left, Robbie and Ana on his right. With all their eyes upon the monster, he dared to graze his hand against Robbie's for a half a second. He almost regretted it when he felt the hot, static flicker of purple magic arcing around Robbie's knuckles, raring to be set free. 

"You don't think separating them will work the same way it did last time, will it?" Robbie wondered faintly.

"Doubtful," Loftskip said, stepping away from Sportacus and beginning to circle. The monster lurched out fully into the street, baring all its teeth at once. His cousin's teeth had never been that sharp, or that long, and it made Sportacus's stomach twist. Distantly, he heard the telltale  _shink_ of metal against metal, and Loftskip's hands retracting into her arms, flamethrower nozzles slipping out to replace them.

Sportacus was starting to get an idea of how she handled the monster the last time they crossed paths.

Apparently, the monster remembered, and both its heads snapped towards Loftskip.

"Sportacus," Loftskip called, "if I keep its attention on me, do you think you can bind it again?"

"I - I might-"

"I can help her," Robbie cut in, slowly drifting away from his mother with his wings flared up around his shoulders, and his arms stiff at his sides. "Keep its attention away from you, whatever. You've got your crystal back, that means you're stronger, right?"

"They were  _willing_ before," Sportacus argued, keeping ninety percent of is focus on the monster, even as it stood hunched and snarling at Loftskip. "This time - the binding might not  _stick."_

"They're charging," Ana warned, a split second before the monster lunged for Loftskip.

Robbie let out a yelp and brought up both his hands, and two loose cobblestones in front of the monster shot up from the ground and smacked into the creature's underbelly, putting it off-balance just long enough for Loftskip to easily dodge to the side, springing up onto a building and then somersaulting to the ground behind the creature. Turning back to Sportacus, Robbie shouted, "Then  _make_ it stick, Sportaflop!"

"Yes. Right!" Bending forward, Sportaucus let his claws slip out, and the binding charm took shape around his fingers, and he circled opposite of Robbie as the creature let out a blood-curdling roar.

 

* * *

 

**_Found them-_ **

**I know-**

The blue-upon-black had been there for a moment, right in front of them, and then she was gone - but the gasoline smell  _wasn't._

**_Behind!_ **

The stones that hit them just a moment ago hit them again, this time both in one arm, and they shrieked as they felt something break. The blue-upon-black was behind them, and didn't  _move_ stone like that-

Their heads turned.

**_Robbie-!?_ **

**Took her away-**

_**Need her-** _

**Give her back-**

They forgot the blue-upon-black and her gasoline promise, and Purple filled their vision instead.

 

* * *

 

 

The monster wasn't  _fast,_ per se - it couldn't drag its whole mass in a straight line too well - but oh  _gods,_ its reflexes were horrifyingly quick.

When both heads spun to face Robbie, his control over the two chunks of cobblestone he'd claimed as weapons wavered.

" _Shit,"_ he squeaked as the monster's gaze fixed upon him. 

His wings beat the air frantically. "Loftskip??" he shrieked, hoping his voice would carry. "Any time you wanna-"

For a moment, he thought the light that blinded him a heartbeat later was from Loftskip's flamethrowers. It was so bright even the monster let out a hoarse screech, skidding to a halt before it could reach Robbie, both heads shaking like mad. It seemed obvious that it would  _have_ to come from Loftskip, Sportacus's light spells didn't last that long-

That was until he realized it was coming from behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

Her palms  _burned._

"Glanni," she hissed under her breath, knowing no one else could hear her, "I thought you told me you would never hurt my son."

The ball of light hovering in between her palms like a tiny pulsar grew brighter, brighter-

She curled her fingers, and with one single push, she threw the wisp towards the monster. As it left her hands, the magic took most of her strength with it, and her knees gave in, and she collapsed to the ground with her whole body aching and her lungs burning like she'd swallowed gasoline.

 

* * *

 

Sportacus had been running along a roof, trying to keep to the monster's back, when he saw it charge Robbie. He'd kept his pace, and his heart had nearly leaped from his chest, but it wasn't until he saw the ball of light that alternated between blinding and spots of pitch black that he stumbled, and nearly lost his traction on the roof. Dropping to a crouch to keep himself from falling, he watched Ana throw what he could only assume  _had_ to be a wisp.

She couldn't have gotten her magic back so quickly as to be able to make one - could she??

He stared as it hit the monster's chest. The impact was so strong it pushed the monster backwards, off its front limbs, tangle of tail and legs keeping the front half of the body in the air for a few seconds before it toppled backwards with a thud that he felt rattling up his spine.

There was no smoke after the wisp faded, no smell of burning flesh - only a ringing, like the concussive wave he'd felt when the monster first woke up after they removed Ana.

The monster wheezed, and didn't get back up immediately.

Sportacus's pulse skipped.

"Ship!!" he shouted.  _"Chains!"_

Loftskip didn't even hesitate. She was standing beside a lamppost, and it took her only a single step to reach it, and slip her hands back out and plant her palm against the metal. As she pulled her palm away, there was a crackle of static, and a flash of pure white, and the lamppost almost seemed to begin melting. Instead of turning to metal sludge, however, as Loftskip pulled away, the iron in the lamppost reshaped itself into a single long chain.

One of the monster's arms reached out, scraping at the ground.

"No, you stay put!" Sportacus heard Robbie snarl, and a chunk of the road smacked the monster's hand. 

Loftskip, still pulling a chain from the lamppost, vaulted over the creature's heavily breathing form, looping the chains around each squirming leg, and pulling taught. Each time she tried to wrap the chains around the monster's arms, it tried to swipe at her, and each time it moved, Robbie threw another piece of cobble between Loftskip and the creature before it could make contact.

It took her only a minute to immobilize the creature's limbs. It wouldn't keep the monster down once it regained full clarity, but for now-

Sportacus launched himself off the roof, and came down in a roll beside the creature. 

Loftskip held the chains to her and pulled, and the monster let out a wail in a painfully familiar voice.

"I'm sorry," Sportacus whispered, and his hands crackled blue, and he brought them down on the bulk of the monster's body.

_"Vertu kyrr!"_

 

* * *

 

Robbie didn't realize how heavily he was breathing - or how hard it was to hold the two heavy chunks of cobble in the air, even with magic - until he heard Sportacus shout the words he couldn't understand, and the monster went completely still.

He waited, up on his toes and with his wings splayed, for another minute before he was sure the monster wasn't about to try and break the chains, or the binding charm.

Once he saw Sportacus step back from the monster, rolling his shoulders back and craning his head up to stare at the sky, swaying on his feet, Robbie sucked in a breath and forced his heartbeat to slow down. He snapped his fingers, and the hovering cobble fell down on either side of the monster's heads. Only now that it was still and on the ground, juxtaposed beside Loftskip and Sportacus, did he really appreciate how  _huge_ it was.

It wasn't so much bulky as just -  _long,_ and with too many sharp bits sticking out to count. All in all it seemed much larger than it probably actually was, but he wasn't in the mood to get a closer look.

He sprinted over to his mother, legs burning from exertion, and he slid down onto his knees beside her.

"Mom, are you okay??"

She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. 

"...more or less," she croaked, head dropping to look at the hands held limply in her lap. "I could have been stronger."

"Gods, mom, you - you've only had a  _day,"_ he whispered.

Her eyes were dark. "I've torn down courts in less," she said quietly. "This isn't enough."

Hand rubbing her shoulder, Robbie leaned forward and pressed his face into her hair.

"It's enough for now, Mom," he breathed. "It's enough."

 

* * *

 

"You think that'll hold?" Sportacus asked, glancing at the chains. His hands prickled with pins and needles from the amount of energy he'd pushed into that binding charm, and his tongue felt a bit like sandpaper. His crystal was still flickering, and instead of the warmth he was used to, it felt cold again.

Loftskip folded her arms over her chest. "For now." She glanced over Sportacus's shoulder. "I am surprised his mother could use her magic. Especially to that degree."

Sportacus turned and looked, finding Robbie kneeling next to his mother. "Ship - if she got her magic back that fast-"

"She is Queenscourt," Loftskip said quietly. "I have no doubt of that now."

Sportacus shivered. He'd put his suspicions about Ana's heritage aside for the past couple of days, but now that he was faced with the sight of her power, and Loftskip's gentle affirmation, he couldn't help but feel a quiver of fear crawling around in his ribs.

_Robbie's mother is Queenscourt._

"Ship, you don't think... she might be able to help us separate them??" he said warily, gesturing at the monster that was heaving each breath, and not even moving to lift their heads off the ground. Part of Sportacus wanted to go to their front, see the faces up close, but the rest of him wanted to be as far away as possible - it was his cousin's face, but it wasn't  _right._

"It is possible, but-" Loftskip was interrupted by a harsh choking sound coming from one of the creature's two heads. A spike of alarm welled up inside Sportacus, but after a moment the choking subsided. Loftskip was quiet for another moment, then laid a hand on Sportacus's shoulder. "She is still weak. For now, let her be. See if she or Robbie need any help. I will secure the chains to the ground."

His chest felt cold.

They'd did it. The monster was down, the townsfolk were safe again.

He'd kept his promise.

Managing a smile, Sportacus murmured, "You think we'll be able to do it? Save them?"

Loftskip's optics twinkled. "We have gotten this far, Sportacus, so yes. I think we will."

 

* * *

 

The breath choked off in their lungs, and everything around and inside them  _squeezed,_ and-

-broke.

 

* * *

 

Ana tensed up, and for a moment, all she could see was blue.

 

* * *

 

Before tending to the chains, Loftskip allowed herself a moment to look at Robbie and his mother; particularly, Robbie's wings. In the morning sunlight, they shone as if covered in purple glitter.

She wondered, briefly, what Ana's wings had been like.

 

* * *

 

Sportacus was halfway between Loftskip and Robbie, practically skipping from the energy pulsing through him - his crystal, its power seemingly boundless now that it was  _back_ with him-

A spurt of cold drove into his chest, and his whole body jackknifed, bringing him to his knees as he bit out a pained yelp.

The moment his hands touched the ground to brace himself, he felt the street rumble, and his ears started ringing again.

Squinting through the sharp cold pain in his chest, Sportacus thought he heard Robbie shout his name, but he couldn't pay attention right now. His head whirled around, wide-eyed, to find Loftskip coming towards him, about to break into a sprint, her own crystal flashing in time with his as she called out his name.

His crystal flashed, and he could hear it again _._

_They_

_are_

_not_

_BOUND-_

Dark blotches floated over his vision, making the background too blurry to make out, and in the foreground-

Loftskip came to a jagged halt, and she didn't  _come_ to him, didn't come try and help make it  _stop._

She stood perfectly still. Back arcing just a bit. Arms held out stiff to her sides, head tilted back. The street beneath Sportacus shook violently.

He heard Robbie calling out-

No, he heard Robbie  _screaming._ And maybe he was screaming, too.

The background, the _blur,_ shifted.

Loftskip's feet left the ground, slowly, as if she were hovering with invisible wings, and a faint metallic groan reached Sportacus's ears. It didn't stop - it only got louder and louder - as the plating of her torso buckled outwards, and her crystal flashed once and then went dark, and five jagged claws burst through her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *furiously dialing the Witness Protection Program* @CELEPOM PLEASE DON'T KILL ME I'M SORRY


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go figure I would write about 700 words for this chapter and then accidentally delete the tab, thus losing all my progress... I was able to rewrite the beginning but wow I'm dumb.
> 
> Anyway. Time to try and redeem myself in all your eyes...

Sportacus felt like his muscles had been turned to stone, for a moment that stretched into a minute and then an hour. The blur he hadn't been able to focus on came fully into focus, straining against its chains, still holding her in its claws. She was ragdoll limp, eyes dark and his crystal wouldn't stop  _screaming_ for her, and it was all he could do to remember to  _breathe-_

His vision washed with white, and a deep  _ruk-ruk_ sound spilled over his teeth.

The scream that left his teeth next was barely recognizable as his own voice.

"L -  _Loftskip!!"_

The monster was still bound by the legs and body, and most of its arms, but the one arm that was free and holding Loftskip clenched. Metal groaned and cracked and one arm fell entirely, flakes of plastic and steel shedding like flower petals. Even as the monster squeezed the metal, Sportacus felt as if his ribs were being crushed, and when there was almost nothing left, it brought both hand and crystal down against the cobblestone, and a shockwave erupted through the air.

 

* * *

 

It almost seemed as if the shockwave hadn't hit Ana at all; she'd  _felt_ it press against her chest, her breathing hampered as if by smoke fumes or a collapsed lung, but she stayed still on the ground. She hunched over as the impact cut through her, back aching so badly she thought she might split open right along her spine. Somewhere within the blood roaring and possibly bleeding from her ears, she heard the monster howling. 

The shockwave pushed her back and scraped her knees even through her pants, and she saw debris go flying - two chunks of metal that might have been legs, and painted blue shards of plastic, and a single small thing that glittered like a piece of stained glass.

 

* * *

 

**_IT-BURNS-_ **

**It does-**

_**YES-** _

They could feel the chains around them, and yet they  _couldn't._ They knew it was hurting, it hurt with every move they made, no matter how hard they strained against it the metal was there, constricting them. A part of them felt it burning with such intensity they couldn't do anything but shriek, and another part could hear that pain so vividly spoken in the crystal, but they couldn't  _feel_ beyond the brittle weight in the chains.

A howl tore from their throat, and they remembered a sharp piece of black iron, and running-

**_it hurts it BURNS get it OFF getitawaygetitaway-_ **

**Where-**

**_ANYWHERE-_ **

 

* * *

 

When the shockwave hit, Robbie had been running for Sportacus. The concussion hit him square in the diaphragm, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending him tumbling backwards, head over heels, landing painfully with one wing possibly sprained beneath him. Righting himself with a groan, he searched in a wild panic for his elf, and found Sportacus five feet in front of him, on his hands and knees between Robbie and the monster, face hidden from Robbie's view.

Robbie was about to call out his elf's name, but his voice choked off in his throat.

Gods, the  _heat-_

It hadn't been there ten seconds ago, but now it was  _smothering_ him, more oppressive than the worst summer day. Sweat poured down the side of his head and every bare patch of skin, and the air took on the same haze he'd seen around bonfires. He couldn't  _focus_ with it surrounding him, all he could do was stare at its source, the source that was crouched on the balls of his feet with his palms flat on the cobblestones-

The heat was radiating off of Sportacus in waves, accompanied by a low, rising purr that was quickly turning into a growl the likes of which Robbie had never heard, and frankly never  _wanted_ to hear. Each time he tried to find his voice, tried to call out his elf's name, his mouth went so dry that all he could do was weakly gasp, and sit uselessly on the ground with his jaw hanging.

Then he saw Sportacus's claws slip out, and for a chilling moment, the monster wasn't the most terrifying thing in the town square. 

 

* * *

 

The colors of the world around Sportacus intensified, saturation of auras almost overpowering him, twisting his sense of direction and the connection of his brain to his limbs. Everything was instinctive now, and the screaming, suddenly frigid lump of crystal sitting on his chest was the only thing keeping him from losing all sense of his surroundings.

_They_

_hurt_

_HER-_

Sportacus's claws dug into the cobblestones. He was distantly aware of a heat that seemed to come from every direction at once, but he couldn't be bothered to try and figure out why it was there, or what new threat it signified.

He stayed perched on the balls of his feet for another second, then launched himself forward. He dove into a somersault and then leaping upwards into a run, arms stretched out to either side, elbows behind, palms and claws forward-

Either the monster was ready for him, or he just didn't  _see_ in time, but one second he heard his crystal shriek, and the next he felt something hit his solar plexus. It felt the same as when the monster had hit him the first time, when - when he'd done  _something_ to it, he couldn't remember what at the moment. Whatever it was, the monster hadn't cared much for it and it seemed to have remembered, because for a moment Sportacus couldn't breathe, and he came crashing down onto the ground with a grunt, head spinning.

An ache spread up through his side, but he hauled himself back onto his feet, lips curled back and tongue bleeding slightly. He hadn't even realized he'd bitten it when he'd gone skidding into - something. His peripheral vision suggested that he'd landed near the alley the monster had come through, in a pile of splintered wood siding and shingles and the twisted metal of a fire escape.

And a dumpster. Slightly dented, mostly intact. 

Sportacus heard a chain snap in the square, and his crystal flashed a series of colors,  _white-red-white-black-blue._

_Don't_

_let them_

_go-_

 

* * *

 

The heat crawled over Ana's body, making it hard to stand up, and harder to speak. Her son was close by, almost within reach, just a few steps to her left and she would be able to grab him by the arm before he could run after that  _elf-_

She'd seen this kind of behavior, once or twice before. Felt the incendiary burn of magic pouring from their bodies. It was different than fire, than sunlight - it wormed its way into the muscles and organs, suffocating and numbing. Just the act of standing up became all but impossible, the very air fighting Ana like it had turned to mud, or maybe tar. 

"Robbie-" she rasped, seeing him stagger to his feet, facing the alleyway. Her words barely made it to her own ears, let alone his, and all she could do was stare as her son took a single step forward, lured towards the elf for reasons beyond Ana's comprehension.

It came as a small comfort to see her son stop and recoil when a dumpster came flying out of the alleyway. That relief was quickly overshadowed by a twist in her gut as she watched the dumpster collide with the monster's upper head. A dull  _crunch_ echoed through the air, followed by a whining snarl, and the grating of chains against chains, and then two more metallic snaps.

The monster teetered to the side, two arms flailing out and dragging its bulk along the cobblestones. The dumpster held one arm pinned, but with a forceful shove the creature managed to dislodge it, breaths heaving out of sync and audible even from at least twenty feet away.

Ana's lungs tightened, and she felt the monster moving, fighting against the last of the chains. Each one of their hoarse breaths reverberated inside her rib cage, a shuddering pulse that clouded her focus. Their wings fluttered desperately, and they strained away from the town square with what seemed to be every ounce of strength in their mutilated body.

Their crystal flashed, blood red, without a sound.

Each time it flashed, something far smaller, on the ground between them and Ana, reflected the light with barely more brightness than a firefly. Despite the heat, and the throbbing ache in her wrists and the back of her skull, Ana  _knew_ what that flickering spot on the ground was.

The rest of its body may have been scattered, but on the ground not ten feet from Ana lay the hunter's crystal.

Intact.

_Defenseless._

Her back ached with the flutter of phantom wings, and she forced one step, and then the next, and hobbled towards the crystal.

 

* * *

 

"Shit," Robbie breathed out, finally finding his coordination again and scrambling onto his feet. The sickening impact of the dumpster against the monster's face sounded like it might've broken a few bones, but he couldn't even  _think_ about them right now. 

He froze up when Sportacus stepped out of the alleyway, and a fresh wave of blistering heat drenched Robbie's body. His elf shook off wood splinters from his hair, and the way his head and neck twisted reminded Robbie of a dog, and the bared teeth didn't improve the image. Neither did the hunch of Sportacus's shoulders, or the piece of nail-encrusted wood he was dragging-

Across the square, the monster let out a shriek, and three more chains snapped. The ground rumbled, and Robbie turned in time to see the monster break free of its chains, lurching to one side and struggling towards an alley on the opposite side of the street.

 _"No!"_ Sportacus roared, winding his arm back and snapping it forward, sending the broken beam hurtling through the air. "You stay  _put!"_

It didn't sound like Sportacus.

It didn't sound like Sportacus at  _all._

Robbie was distantly aware of his mother calling out his name, her voice so faint he  _might_ have imagined it, but he couldn't think about her. She was away from the monster and that meant she was safe, but Sportacus was quickening his pace, starting to run, or maybe gallop, Robbie wasn't sure  _what_ the elf's legs were doing - but whatever it was, it was  _fast,_ and if Sportacus caught up to the monster-

Sportacus might've been fast, but he was also distracted. Even so, Robbie put everything he had into bolting across the street, wings and arms and legs all working in tandem to intercept the elf before he could do something he would probably regret for the rest of his life. Robbie almost slipped twice on loose stones, but he flung one arm out just as his sides started to ache, and latched onto a claw-studded hand.

Robbie almost dropped Sportacus's wrist when the elf whipped his head around, teeth gritted and a snarl ebbing past his teeth. Robbie steeled himself and ignored the alarm sirens going off in his head, and yanked Sportacus by the arm. The elf was tugged off balance for only a couple seconds, but that was all the time Robbie needed to reach out and clasp both sides of the elf's head, his thumbs pressed against Sportacus's temples.

The moment his hands touched Sportacus's temples, Robbie felt a sound cut through his eardrums - a high-pitched screech, scraping along the insides of his skull. For a moment his brain felt like a light bulb overheating and then popping, and his magic surged in response, begging him to take notice of the  _threat_ that was colored faintly blue, but overwhelmingly crystalline white. 

"Sportacus, snap out of it!!" Robbie half-demanded, half-begged. 

The elf thrashed against his hands, almost mirroring the lurching movements of the monster. Sportacus's eyes were glazed over a bright, electric blue, and his hands grappled uselessly with Robbie's. 

Beneath the rolling snarl, Sportacus grated out, "I'll - I'll tear them apart-"

"You  _won't,"_ Robbie said through clenched teeth, pressing his forehead against Sportacus's. " _Snap out of it_ , Sportaflop! They're running! We have to - we have to stick together, if you go after them-" Robbie's voice cracked. "You'll hurt them and they'll hurt  _you_ and where does that leave the rest of us?? You told the kids you wouldn't get yourself hurt, remember??" Lowering his voice, Robbie cradled Sportacus's head, rubbing his thumbs in circles over his temples.

In and out. With every breath, a little of his aura seeped into Sportacus's, muffling the crystal.

The blue faded slowly from the elf's eyes.

"Let them go," Robbie whispered, "I know you're mad, but - we need to worry about the others. The town. The kids.  _Loftskip."_

Like a puppet with its strings being cut, Sportacus sagged, wobbled, and sucked in a sharp breath, and pitched forward into Robbie's chest. The sudden collapse caught Robbie off guard, and he almost slipped and lost his grip on the elf, but he pulled Sportacus to his chest and buried his nose in the elf's hair as Sportacus trembled, hyperventilating into Robbie's sweater.

When Sportacus pulled after, after a half a minute of shaking, his eyes were more red than blue, and wide with fear instead of the rage that had been there a minute ago.

"Fucking  _hell,_ Sportacus," Robbie croaked, "you have no idea how freaky you are when you're mad."

Sportacus almost smiled, but all Robbie could see was him shivering, his skin clammy and his eyes still a bit glazed over.

"Robbie - she - I could  _feel_ her breaking-" Sportacus's eyes went wide, and he stiffened up in Robbie's arms, pushing against Robbie's chest and looking around the square wildly. "Robbie, where's - where's her  _crystal-"_

Robbie stammered out an unhelpful, "I don't-" but Sportacus cut him off, voice frantic.

"I need - I need to get her  _crystal,_ she can't stay in there for long, she'll-" By now Sportacus was babbling so fast it was all Robbie could do to process each individual word, and together they made only a fraction of the sense they were supposed to. Sportacus swept his gaze over the town square, twisting around in Robbie's arms in a panic. "I have to get her back to the ship, I have to put her back, her crystal's too small to hold her without losing-" 

Sportacus's voice choked off abruptly, and his eyes fixed on something off to Robbie's right.

"No!" Sportacus gasped, voice strangled. "No,  _no!!"_

Robbie felt like he was moving through molasses as he turned, looking the same direction as Sportacus-

He saw his mother, standing and looking down at something between her feet.

It was palm-sized and round and glittered in the morning sun.

"Don't touch it!!" Sportacus screamed. "Don't  _touch_ it!!"

The elf pushed away from Robbie and broke into a run towards Ana.

 

* * *

 

The crystal on the ground beside her right foot looked like nothing but a simple gem, a pale round opal, perhaps. The kind of thing humans might covet; shape into jewelry, purchase as a token of infatuation, or vanity, or pride. The kind of thing displayed behind glass in their museums. 

Ana's stomach twisted with revulsion.

They were the creatures that created human ghost towns. The silhouettes stood behind walls of fire, turning sapling groves to ash. Their soulless metal husks could creep through trees and not be  _felt,_ and find their way to a court hollow, and rip it up at the roots-

Her hand balled into a fist at her side. What magic she had left wouldn't have been enough to even _scratch_ a hunter ship, but this wasn't a ship, now was it?

Just a crystal. Dull, inert,  _weak._

The elf was likely trustworthy. If he hadn't betrayed Robbie by now, she doubted he ever would. 

The hunter was not the same. Not at all.

Gold crackled over Ana's hand. She thought of glass breaking, the brittleness of a tree struck by lightning, and bones slowly squeezed in a vise. It would take nothing at all to shatter a crystal and be  _rid_ of the threat forever. Somewhere she heard a scream, and she wondered momentarily why the hunter hadn't screamed when its body had been pierced.

Only living things screamed, Ana supposed.

She bent down, held the fae word for  _break_ on her tongue, and wrapped her fingers around the crystal.

 

* * *

 

Robbie ran after Sportacus out of habit, but once he fully realized what his mother was  _doing,_ he felt a surge of blind panic. That panic rapidly shifted to utter, disorienting  _terror_ when he saw her grab the crystal.

Instead of Loftskip's crystal shattering into pieces, however, what Robbie saw scared him even worse.

The moment his mother touched the crystal, her entire body seized, back arching and face contorted with a silent, painful scream. She dropped to her knees, fingers peeling away from the crystal, but instead of falling, the crystal remained in her palm, firmly stuck. A crackle of gold arced over its surface - as did a shock of vibrant blue.

Ana's eyes fluttered shut, and she pitched forward, slumping face-first onto the ground with one arm bent awkwardly at her side, and the other out in front of her, still cupping the crystal in her palm. Sportacus reached her first, skidding onto his knees and almost falling on top of her. He rolled Ana onto her back as Robbie caught up to them, hands shaking so badly he could barely get a hold of her.

"No no no  _no -_ dammit,  _no!!"_ Sportacus roughly grabbed Ana's hand, struggling to pry the crystal out of her palm, but it remained firmly fixed.

Robbie braced his hands on his knees, wheezing for breath before he collapsed beside his mother and Sportacus. A moment of relief amidst his fear and confusion reached him when he saw his mother was still breathing, and seemingly unhurt.

"Mom!!" Robbie exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing her shoulder. When there was no reaction, he turned to Sportacus. "What the  _hell_ just happened to her??"

Sportacus shook his head dazedly, clinging to Ana's hand, staring down at Loftskip's crystal. "She - she shouldn't have  _touched_ it, she doesn't know-"

" _Sportacus,"_ Robbie urged anxiously, "what the hell is going on?? Is she-??"

The helpless look Sportacus gave Robbie made his heart skip a beat. The elf drew in a series of painfully slow breaths, running a hand through his hair and whispering, "She - Loftskip's mind is in her crystal, but she - she can't  _stay_ in this crystal, Robbie! She has to go back to the ship's crystal or - or she's going to fade, and she's going to  _die -_ she can survive for a little while, but someone-" His teeth were chattering again, sweat beads glistening in his hairline. "It's like - it's like - a dream. Or limbo. She was hurt too much, too fast - someone has to help her come back, or she won't leave the crystal, and she'll  _die-"_

"My mom, Sportacus," Robbie said, "what about my mom??"

Sportacus didn't meet Robbie's eyes. "She - you can follow an airship into their crystal by touch."

Robbie's blood ran cold.

"She..." Sportacus dropped Ana's hand and pressed the meat of his palms into his eyebrows, stretching the skin of his face and making him look even more stressed and haywire than he already clearly was. "Fuck, Robbie, I don't - I don't  _know_ what happens when a fairy touches a crystal when they're - when they're like this! I don't know if we can force her out of it, I don't if that'll make it worse-"

The chattering teeth made it nearly impossible for Robbie to focus on the words Sportacus was saying, and in a disbelieving haze, his vision strayed from Sportacus's face, back down towards the crystal in Ana's hand, and the faint blue light, and the red-

-the  _red._

There was red staining the side of Sportacus's shirt.

"Sportacus!" Robbie all but shrieked, darting forward to examine the wound. "Sportacus, when did this - did you even  _notice-"_

The elf glanced down, lifting his arm and grimacing as he stared at the blood soaking his shirt and vest. There wasn't much, and it wasn't bleeding fast, but it was there all the same, and as he tugged the shirt back a bit, Robbie got a clear and nausea-inducing look at an at least three-inch long gash in Sportacus's side, right above his hip. He couldn't tell how deep it was, but it was  _still_ slowly oozing.

"The ship has autopilot, right??" he stammered.

Sportacus nodded, understanding. He craned his head back and called, "Ship, land!"

It took a minute, but sure enough, the airship circled into view, slowly descending to the square. Only then - remembering Sportacus's earlier fear of putting the children at risk - did Robbie look up to try and spot the monster.

Despite clear evidence as to which way it had gone, and the sound of distant thudding, the monster was nowhere to be seen.

He made a mental note of which way it was headed, and then turned to Sportacus. "I don't - I don't know what's going on with Loftskip, or my mom, but if you bleed yourself into unconsciousness  _again_ I swear to all the gods, I will duct tape you to the bed and ban the kids from ever talking to you again because you are the single worst heroic influence in the known universe."

Sportacus let out a sound that was adjacent to a chuckle. The ship landed behind them, engines the only sound; no exasperated comment over the loudspeaker, no insistence that they move fast.

"Get into the ship," Robbie ordered, "I've got the others."

His elf stood slowly, gingerly holding his side, and limped towards the ship's now open door. 

Ana groaned weakly as Robbie lifted her into his arms, and he tried not to notice how Loftskip's crystal was practically seared into her palm.

His stomach felt ice cold.

"Don't do this to me again, mom," he whispered. "Not again.  _Please."_

The only reaction he got was from the crystal; glowing faintly blue, and even fainter gold.

 

* * *

 

She landed on what felt like moss.

...odd. She hadn't even realized she was falling in the first place. 

Slowly blinking her eyes open, Ana surveyed her surroundings warily. Everything was dark and freezing cold around her, a solemn gray mist that obscured up, right, left, forward, backward... the only thing she could actually see was the ground below her. As her vision cleared, she pressed her hands into the damp moss, and after a few experimental squishes, she realized it wasn't moss at all.

Recoiling, Ana realized that the ground beneath her was made of rags, akin to dish towels in texture, lumpy and littering the ground in such a number that they had the buoyancy of moss. They were damp, she realized with a start, because they were soaked in oil.

They smelled of gasoline, and also - citrus.

Standing was tricky. She felt... lopsided, for some reason.

When she stood, and stretched - garbed in a sun dress, she noticed, instead of a sweater and pants - she finally understood why she felt so unbalanced.

Her skin crawled, and she twisted her head around, and saw them floating behind her. Their glow permeated the gloom with sunset orange, and they fluttered with every uncertain flexing of her back muscles.

Her wings.

Just as she remembered them.

Ana narrowed her eyes.

_This - this isn't real._

Her wings were  _gone._ She knew that much. 

And yet, there they were. Feeling as real as the rest of her limbs.

Perhaps it was a bit ambitious, but she gave them a flick, and just as they had always done, they lifted her off her feet. The moment her feet left the ground, however, a new light pierced the darkness, a few feet away on her left.

With a sulfurous smell, a single road flare crackled to life, its harsh glow shedding light on yet more rags. Ana froze in the air and dropped back down, holding completely still as the flare coughed sparks, and didn't seem to run out. She watched it for a minute, perhaps two, wondering if it represented a threat.

After two minutes, she heard another crackle, and a second flare lit, this time on her right.

Two more minutes, and two more flares, and then more after that in rapid succession, forming a path down through the dark.

The air was cold, but she felt a warmth emanating in the direction the flares were leading.

Ana suppressed a smirk.

Her wings were back, and this was no Court dream. It wasn't real.

She lifted into the air again and began to follow the flares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...mad Sportacus is deliciously fun to write
> 
> and FINALLY, AT LONG LONG LAST, WE ARE THE PART I HAVE BEEN WAITING LITERALLY *MONTHS* TO WRITE, HELLYEAH BOYS ITS *CRYSTAL TIME*


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so unbelievably hot where I live that my brain has not been functioning enough to write. Damn you, summer... you may have stalled the updates, but I can never be stopped...

Ana wasn't sure how long she had been flying. She'd tried counting the flares, but lost track once they started fading behind her. She'd passed at least a few dozen, she imagined. The number slipped into her head every now and again, and always slipped away after a few moments. She'd given up on trying to gauge her journey by time; now, her only frame of reference for distance was the warmth of the air around her.

What had started as freezing cold had turned almost sauna warm. The heat, when she first felt it, reminded Ana of the humid interior of a Court. Even the northernmost court forests were bathed in the heat, their trees growing immense and hungry because of it, faces of their fairies flushed with magic and the warmth of wood and moss and  _life_ all around them.

The closer she came to the heat, the less Ana was reminded of a court. Instead of humid and familiar, this heat was -  _sweltering_ , like the air inside a huge furnace. A coppery taste sat upon her tongue, and the flares almost seemed redder now, smoky and molten. Ana did her best to keep to the air, for the rags on the ground had practically taken on the consistency of mud, and were slippery beneath her, so drenched with oil-

A new sound joined the crackles of the road flares - a rumble of machinery, guttural and  _unnatural._ Ana halted and hovered in the air, dress flowing around her thighs, pushed by a gust of wind that suddenly came towards her.

When the wind came, the flares winked out of existence, plunging Ana into darkness. Her heart scraped against her ribs, every muscle going taught. The inky black smelled different, but it was still so all-encompassing, she couldn't help but  _think-_

_No. I am not them. I am **not** them. _

She closed her eyes and focused inward, and the gold was all she saw. She was - only herself, here, in the dark. She was alone, and she always flourished when she was alone, didn't she? Hadn't she always? Rootless since her birth, denied a home for the sake of her purpose -  _mend the courts and make them calm -_ never staying in one place, never being still unless she stood in the dark and stared at the stars.

There were no stars here. 

The wind pushed against her on all sides now, battering her wings with hurricane force. The roar in the distance, like immense turbines, surged into her eardrums with such intensity she felt them pop. Clapping her hands over her now ringing ears, Ana curled inwards, and try as she might, she couldn't keep her wings from going limp, dropping her down to the rags.

Her feet impacted on oil, and  _only_ oil.

Ana let out a sharp cry as her feet went  _down_ and dragged the rest of her body with them, sinking and slipping in the oil that hadn't  _been_ there before. Wings batting frantically to keep her from slipping all the way under, she still ended up covered in black, viscous oil. Somehow she managed to avoid getting any in her mouth or eyes... a small comfort, as it soaked into her clothes and stained her wings.

This wasn't real - she knew that, she  _knew_ that - but it still felt so  _heavy._

Ana slowly found her footing again, standing waist-deep in the warm oil. Her wings drooped without a hope of achieving flight until they were clean, and Ana didn't imagine that would happen anytime soon. She tried not to acknowledge the bitter ache in her chest that crept up inside her when she touched ground again. If she held perfectly still, she almost couldn't feel her wings at all.

Grimacing, Ana tried to move through the oil, tried to remember which direction she'd been facing before she fell-

There was a splash, to her left. The sound echoed, and for the first time the darkness gave off the impression of having  _walls_ and a  _ceiling_ to accompany the oil-flooded floor. Ana stood as still as she could, her wings providing the faintest illumination, enough to let her see the ripples in the water that pushed away from her with every exhale. She waited for a second splash, and tried not to think too drastically about how  _heavy_ the first one had sounded. 

A few moments passed, and a second splash sent a slowly approaching series of small waves across the lake. The oil splashed up onto Ana's arms and the lower halves of her wings; not quite hot enough to burn, but certainly warmer than it had been a minute ago. The waves faded, but before they could disappear entirely, Ana heard an even louder splash than the last.

This time the waves came from right in front of her, reaching her in only seconds. With them came the sound of turbines again, screeching and building in volume. The wind pulled Ana forward, almost off her feet and back into the oil, but before she could either lose her footing, or try to spread her wings and escape, it reached a crescendo with a singular booming sound, something akin to a thunderclap, but sudden and deafening and altogether  _mechanical._

A heavy pulse shuddered through the air, battering Ana's wings and ears. Her hand came up in front of her eyes, shielding her from whatever lay ahead as a harsh neon light pierced the darkness. Through her fingers, she couldn't see where the light began or ended - only that there was a dark shape behind, or possibly within it, a silhouette whose edges she couldn't quite define.

It was  _immense._ Perhaps the size of a building, but slender and humanoid and-

The sound of cables snapping taught startled Ana back into focus, and she flinched backwards as the light paled to a sulfurous greenish-blue, and a head the size of her entire body dropped down in front of her. Ghostly light radiated from small exposed wires throughout a sleek metal face, and the wires continued to a set of broad shoulders and then two arms that came splashing into the water on either side of Ana. She saw, just before they sank into the oil, that each hand was tipped with claws as long as her arms. The glow from the wires was faintly visible beneath the surface of the oil, and she felt the heat grow more intense around her.

A metallic groan led Ana's eyes back up the arms and shoulders, where dozens of cables were bolted to the behemoth's body. They strained tight as it loomed over Ana, two eyes like camera lenses staring down at her.

"...you are not supposed to be here," the figure said, accented voice sounding like it came over a glitching loudspeaker. Its head dropped lower, within only a few feet of Ana, and she could see her reflection - wings and all - in its strange eyes.

The moment the creature spoke, Ana's skin crawled.

_This isn't real. This isn't real._

Her self-assurances felt unusually empty, for once. The fever temperature in the air made it dizzying to think, but she swallowed her restless nerves and straightened her back, returning the hunter's stare.

"What is this place?" Ana asked, forcing all emotion from her voice. The looming hunter cocked its head to the side, a few degrees further than Ana thought a neck should be able to twist. 

"You," the hunter repeated, "should not  _be_ here." It shifted its entire form to the right, dragging itself through the oil and slowly circling to Ana's side. "You are not an admin. You are  _fae."_ The hunter seemed to try and circle further, but the cables strained against the movement, keeping it tethered, for the moment. Ana tried to see where the cables led, but they only continued up high into the darkness, out of sight. "How?" the hunter hissed, the sound reminding Ana of an old car engine croaking to life. "How did  _you_ get here?"

Ana clenched her jaw. "I never meant to come here," she retorted coldly. "Nor do I care what this place is or why _you_ are here. How do I leave?"

The hunter shook its head. "Crystal," it stated, and it didn't seem particularly inclined to elaborate further. "Admins know. They come and they lead the way out." With another low hiss, the hunter brought one hand up and smacked the surface of the oil, splashing Ana's side. " _You._ You came into the crystal." The electric hiss cut off sharply, and uttered a word that seemed to echo in the darkness more than the others had.

"Ana."

A chill went down her spine.

The hunter's head came up to hers, lights painfully pricking the edges of Ana's vision. The sound of turbines started up again, stuttering and clattering inside the hulking metal figure. "You were there," the hunter rasped, "you were  _there._ You saw." The hunter pulled back, thrashing once, and in the corner of her eye Ana spotted two of the cables pulling back on the hunter's shoulders. "You saw, you saw - what _happened_ to me?? You can't-" Another thrash, and the cables pulled all the tighter. The hunter lifted a hand from the oil, reaching across its chest to tug on a cable attached to the opposite arm. As it leaned back, for the first time, Ana saw its chest, and the singular gaping hole at its center and a bit to the left. 

Black oil, the same as what flooded the ground, spilled from the hunter's chest, and dozens more glowing wires spiderwebbed out from the jagged wound. 

"You can't  _be_ here unless I - unless-" The hunter dragged its claws down its face and hunched over, shuddering. Soft metallic squeaks ebbed from its joints with every motion. "What _happened_ , fairy,what happened?!" 

The image spilled out in Ana's mind, the memory suddenly fresh again. Everything had been distant when she was alone in the dark, with only the flares around her, but now she could remember with too much clarity the sight of the monster breaking its chains, and the feeling of it moving and trying to take her with it-

Between Ana and the hunter, the oil suddenly shifted, and rose. She stumbled backwards, and the hunter's attention snapped back to her, and the oil continued to pull itself up from the lake, twisting and solidifying into an iridescent depiction of the very scene playing out in Ana's memory. It was imperfect, but accurate enough; right down to the five claws bursting through the hunter's chest.

She tried not to notice the way the hunter in the darkness with her  _now_ reached slowly for its chest, claws grazing the gaping hole where its crystal ought to be.

"...careless," the hunter muttered. "Careless,  _stupid."_ It reached out and touched a claw to the oil formation, and it dissolved immediately, returning to the lake with a splash. Once again, all that was left in the darkness was Ana, and the hunter, and the hunter's focus was fully upon her. "And  _you._ You couldn't know. You took my crystal, why??"

Instead of a sculpture, the oil turned red around Ana, for only the briefest second. 

The lights around the hunter dimmed, and it crouched down in front of Ana.

"...typical fairy," it hissed. "How easy did you think it would be? How much magic would it take you? How much did you even have  _left?"_ Each arm splayed out to the sides, elbows pointed up and head dropped low. Ana stood her ground as firmly as she could, trying to feel if her wings were ready, but the heat made it so difficult to concentrate, and the hunter - the hunter had a way of commanding her attention. "What did you think would happen after it was done? I am not - I am not the threat, I am  _not_ the threat-"

The hunter started to ramble, repeating the claim that Ana  _knew_ had to be false, and she bit out sharply, "You're a hunter! You're a fairy-killer, that's what you metal creatures are  _made_ for - of  _course_ you're a fucking threat!" The hunter went quiet, but the words fell too fast from Ana's mouth, echoing in the darkness before she could stop herself. "How many forests have you burned?! How many changelings have you stolen back, how many courts have you  _pillaged,_ how many young fae have you tricked the names out of - do you even remember?? Do you remember  _any_ of them?!"

" _Dammit_ , fairy!" The cables holding the hunter back gave off groans as it pulled against them. "Of course I remember them!! I remember  _all_ of them, every fucking forest, every fairy who ran from me-" The oil churned around the hunter, taking on the shapes of small winged figures, and fallen trees, and the heat in the lake grew almost to the point of scalding for a half-second before it mercifully faded. "I was - I was  _ten hours old,_ you stupid Seelie! I was ten hours old when they dropped me in a grove and told me to burn every sapling to the ground!"

The breath caught in Ana's throat, wedging against her vocal chords. Overhead, the hunter shuddered, and the oil all around the both of them spun upwards in columns, forming a black ring of trees, and dozens of smaller saplings, some close enough for Ana to reach out and touch if she wanted. The bark, gnarled before its time, told her that the plants from this memory were treants - grown and shaped to defend the forest, should the fairies be unable to do so.

She knew the elves had found such groves, here and there, but-

"I was ten hours old," the hunter snarled. "What did _you_ do, when you were ten hours old? Ten days? Ten  _years??_ How long did it take? Did your court at least let you  _wait?_ Did they let you  _live_ before they told you to take the lives of others?!" 

"You are a  _hunter-"_ Ana tried to protest, but she was interrupted by a bellowing shout.

"And you are a Queensfae!" the hunter spat, oil frothing around its crouched form. "How many of your  _own_ courts have you silenced?!" 

The growing lump in Ana's throat suddenly turned bitter. Ripples of hot, nearly-burning oil lapped at her dress and her wings, but she could barely feel them anymore. She also barely even noticed the shape of the statues changing from small trees to one, enormous tree, standing off to the side and a little behind her, its roots sprawling out in all directions.

_Queensfae._

How could the hunter  _know_ \- even her son didn't know. There was no  _point_ in knowing. The pride and luster of being part of the Queen's court dimmed long before Ana left that world behind, and to hear the word lace the hunter's tongue like the most cutthroat of accusations stung not because of the hunter's tone of voice, but because of the truth to the words.

Eight courts.

Ana remembered tearing down eight of her own Queen's courts, because - because the shapes of their hollows were wrong. Because their fairies were too careless with the deals they made. Because their changelings were too bold, because their older fairies were too wistful for a different Queen, because they sat too close to elvish territory and could  _maybe_ become a weak link. Because they sat close to Unseelie courts and were  _scared._

The hunter had gone quiet. Ana dared to lift her head, glancing at the shapes of the black oil around her. She almost wished she hadn't, for as soon as her gaze fell upon them, they crumbled to nothingness. A shiver crawled up and down her spine, like cold fingertips prying each of her vertebrae out from beneath her skin. The frigid sensation burrowed deeper, carving its way through her flesh and all the way down to her heart, and it felt like her bones were trying to pull themselves out and away from her body.

Hugging her arms around her torso, Ana dug her fingers into her shoulders and tried to fight off the feeling of her own skeleton trying to break free of her skin. Instead it only worsened, and she felt - she felt her _wings_ \- tugging at her shoulder blades like the cables on the hunter's back-

A sound unlike the roar of turbines or the chafing of metal against metal came rushing out of the black, sending ripples across the oil behind Ana, and the frigid cold that had accompanied her when she first woke up in the darkness prickled up her shoulders. This time it was an animal snarl, high-pitched and almost like a child's wail, or the crying of a wounded dog. 

Part of it sounded like  _her._

"Please-" she all but begged, as her wings threatened to pull themselves all the way out of her flesh. Slowly doubling over, Ana gripped the sides of her head, squeezing her eyes shut and trying her damnedest to ignore the sound. Closing her eyes did little to help - a crimson light was flashing on the back of her eyelids.

The oil splashed around her, and the heat came back all of a sudden, swaddling her like a blanket. Stiffening, Ana forced her eyes open, just as drops of oil came splashing down on the top of her head. Craning her head back, she found the hunter's massive torso hovering just above her head, its arms and legs surrounding Ana like the four corners of a cage. A rolling purr of a growl rattled in the hunter's metallic body, and slowly the roar from the darkness disappeared, leaving behind a ringing in her ears that in turn faded away.

Her wings stopped aching, too. 

"They cannot follow," the hunter said lowly. "They  _will_ not."

Its head bent over, looking upside-down at Ana. Slowly it shifted back to its original position, crouching in front of Ana, flickering neon lights almost a comfort in the place of the painful crystalline red haunting the edges of Ana's memory. Her hand ghosted over one of her wings, gently feeling it for damage out of habit. They weren't real, and yet they  _felt_ true. She felt  _whole._

"Your wings..." the hunter murmured, slowly leaning forward onto its arms. Ana tensed as the hunter stared down at her, remembering claws and a red crystal and-

"They were beautiful," was all the hunter said. 

Ana's eyes narrowed, but she held back the sneer that was desperately trying to take shape on her lips. Carding both hands through her hair, she then pressed the bases of her palms into her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. Collecting her thoughts took a minute, and when she had composed herself again, she warily asked, "What just - what did you just do?"

The hunter sat down fully in the oil, leaning heavily to one side, supporting most of its weight on its arms. Its eyes were narrowed to slits as it stared Ana down. "They followed you here. But this - all of this - is  _me._ They are not allowed here." With the way the hunter's head twitched, and its internal machinery hummed, Ana could have sworn it was trying to scowl. "Stupid fairy. You trap yourself here and bring  _them_ with you." 

Ana crossed her arms over her chest. "I didn't  _know._ What kind of design flaw allows an unsuspecting bystander to get trapped in -  _whatever_ this place is with some half-feral elvish machine?" 

"Of course you didn't _know_ ," the hunter growled. "You don't know  _anything._ You trapped yourself in here because you  _thought_ I was a threat." Something inside the hunter's body rattled. "You have no idea how much danger they could be in now, without you or me-"

"I was trying to  _protect_ Robbie," Ana said bitterly, wrapping her arms around herself and refusing to meet the hunter's gaze. "That's the only thing I want."

"You think I don't want that, too?!" the hunter said sharply, catching Ana by surprise as it turned onto its knees, shoulders quivering. "Do you have  _any_ idea how scared he was when you came back in  _my_ elf's body and tried to cut his wings out of his back?" Ana flinched, and opened her mouth to protest, but the hunter didn't stop. "Do you have any idea how long I waited for them to fall asleep that night? How long I was listening, hoping to hear them stop  _crying??_ They - they only had each other - Robbie _trusted_ Sportacus and you nearly  _destroyed_ that!! And I nearly lost my elf,  _again!"_ The hunter leaned forward, cables groaning as they held it back from Ana. "Do you know I had to put myself between them?? I chose _your_ son over  _my_ elf!" 

All the trembling in the hunter's body, all the stutters in its turbine fans - Ana wondered, if the hunter had been flesh and blood, if it would've been crying. There was a rawness to the words, not quite the same level as human emotion, but a sincerity to them that Ana both hated and  _feared,_ but she couldn't bring herself to  _doubt_ it. Not now. Not after all that had been said.

She ground her teeth against each other.

"...Robbie said to trust you," Ana said, staring at anything but the hunter's face.

She heard something akin to a scoff. "You doubted him. Of course you did." After a brief pause, the hunter said, "You knew I was a hunter from the moment you set eyes on me, didn't you?"

Ana's eye twitched. "...yes."

"I am not asking you to trust me," the hunter continued, voice losing just a bit of its overpowering volume. "But - I am  _not_ a hunter anymore. I want, just as you said, to protect Robbie, and protect Sportacus. And I can't  _do_ that in here." The hunter's limbs creaked. "There is... not enough room inside here, to keep me awake forever. I'll fade. Eventually."

Every muscle in Ana's body tensed. "What happens to  _me,_ then??"

The hunter was silent, and that was all the answer Ana needed.

 

* * *

 

It was getting harder to focus on anything, and Loftskip had the uneasy feeling that the strain she'd put on this crystal before her... unfortunate encounter with the monster was limiting the amount of time she had left. When she'd first awoken, the darkness had reminded her of her very first hours of life, and she'd instinctively reached out for the crystals that belonged to the other ships she remembered, but there'd been nothing.

The only things she knew for certain were the cables in her back, keeping her locked into this state of limbo, and the gaping absence in her chest where her crystal should be, and the awareness that there was something  _else_ in the darkness with her.

When Ana had stumbled upon the lake, Loftskip's first emotion had been  _fury._

Ana shouldn't  _be_ there. 

Without an elf, Loftskip didn't know if there was a way out, and she  _needed_ to get back, needed to go back to Sportacus and Robbie, she didn't want to  _die-_

"Hunter," Ana said, from far down below in the oily lake, "you've been here before?"

Loftskip bristled, but made herself keep a level tone as she answered, "Yes. Once."

Ana finally looked up at her. "How did you get out the first time?"

The memory came in the span of a second. It was long ago, before Sportacus, before even Íþró... "They had a crystal. They gave it back to me, and that's all I remember." She let out a whirring sigh. "And my name is Loftskip."

She couldn't quite tell if Ana acknowledged that comment or not - she seemed to be digesting the information about the crystal. For a few minutes, Ana said nothing, and all Loftskip could do was concentrate on the darkness. She could feel it growing smaller by the second - it was still vast, still enough to contain her, but in time it wouldn't be enough, and she would lose herself, piece by piece.

Focusing on Ana made it slightly more bearable. Mostly in that, her luminous wings gave off a far softer light than the wires lacing Loftskip's body, and their movement was almost hypnotic, lulling Loftskip into a false sense of security and stability. The feeling was only broken when her logical half felt the need to remind her that Ana's wings were  _gone,_ and this vision was just the limbo state presenting what she thought was her true self.

It pained Loftskip to know they were gone, but it comforted her, just a bit, to watch them flutter and glow.

Then, Ana's hands moved.

Loftskip watched in silence as a ball of light took shape in Ana's hands; a wisp, the likes of which Loftskip had rarely seen, but often heard described, often in the sense of a horror story. She couldn't help but maintain suspicion towards Ana as the Seelie cupped her hands around the wisp, squeezing down and making it smaller, oval shaped instead of spherical. Its light sputtered and dimmed, taking on faint blue hues, and as Loftskip watched, Ana slowly crafted a near perfect facsimile of the crystal that usually adorned Loftskip's chest.

Ana lifted her head, and held up the doppelganger crystal in one hand. "I do _not_ want to die here," Ana said factually. "Do you think this would work?"

Loftskip wished she had the ability to blink. 

"...I don't know," she answered, shifting around and bringing herself lower to the lake, examining the crystal closely. "But... it is worth trying." 

The wires in Loftskip's chest let out a pulsing glow. 

"Give it back," Loftskip murmured, vision changing colors, as an ache she could only liken to  _hunger_ spread through her body. "Give it  _back."_

Apparently sensing the feral undertones in Loftskip's voice, Ana lifted the crystal as high as she could, beating her wings against the air and lifting herself just far enough out of the lake to press the crystal to Loftskip's chest. The moment she made contact, there was a sharp yank inside Loftskip's body, much like the intense pull of a vacuum, centered at her chest. Even Ana was tugged forward, and in those split seconds, Loftskip heard a resounding  _snap._

Every one of the cables binding her to the darkness broke off from her body, and she collapsed forward, nearly crushing Ana in the process.

She wasn't sure, but she thought she might be shrinking-

Unfortunately, Loftskip couldn't focus on that right now. The oil was churning in waves where she'd pitched forward, and she heard a sharp cry as Ana was caught in the swell, and without thinking Loftskip reached out both hands and scooped Ana up out of the oil. 

Ana's freedom from the lake didn't last long; it began to rise, slowly at first, then quickly filling the darkness. It crept up Loftskip's legs even as she struggled to stand, and then it reached her chest, and she held Ana at her eye level, trying to keep the Seelie woman above the flood, but it didn't  _stop._

The oil rose above Loftskip's head, and each light that lined her body flickered out of existence. 

 

* * *

 

The hunter -  _Loftskip -_ still held Ana above its head, even as the oil rose over its own, leaving only the hunter's hands above the flood.

Ana stared up into the darkness, hoping to see some way to escape, but she feared the oil would only keep rising, until she was too exhausted to fly above it, and it would claim her just as it had the hunter.

She sucked in a deep breath as the lake climbed over Loftskip's hand, and soaked into Ana's shirt, and then reached her neck.

Her head was only above the surface for another second before it overcame her.

At some point, Ana lost track of where the hunter's hand was, and she found herself alone, submerged and trapped in the weight of the oil, and the breath could only last so long-

It was so _warm_.

Ana fought until her lungs _burned_ , but finally she couldn't hold back anymore.

She let her body go limp, and let go of the breath in her lungs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Hey, a friend of mine just got some really shitty family news of the cancerous variety and has in general been having a rough time because of that and some other things. If anybody reading this would like to offer a few words of support or comfort for Teejay's Friend, I would be incredibly appreciative, and I think she would be, too. )
> 
> As always, love y'all! :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *finger guns into the sunset* this chapter fought me every inch of the way and it's constantly 80 degrees out someone please douse me with ice water

"Sportacus," Robbie said quietly, "you need to get up."

Despite the mildly desperate insistence in Robbie's voice, Sportacus didn't budge. The memory of morning drifted through his mind sluggishly, obscured by a muffled ringing in his ears, and the throbbing ache in his lower right side. He couldn't really remember getting back into the ship - he remembered the kids crowding him, peppering him with frantic questions, and then Robbie following and snapping for them to give Sportacus some breathing room. Their attention had turned on Robbie and the limp figure in his arms, and Sportacus had ignored everything else in the ship as Robbie laid that figure down on the couch, and then busied himself with trying to calm down the kids.

Sportacus had slumped down to his knees beside the couch as the ship stayed perfectly stationary on the ground, leaving Robbie to deal with the kids on his own. At some point the noise lessened, but Sportacus didn't turn around to see what Robbie had done to accomplish such silence. He didn't even move the first time Robbie tried to peel his shirt off to examine the cut in his side.

The strength seemed gone from his body, and all his focus was on the motionless woman on the couch, and the crystal clutched in her hand.

If it hadn't been for the rise and fall of her chest, Sportacus might have assumed Ana was dead. Every so often, her breaths would stutter, as would the pulsing glow of the crystal in her hand. They matched each others' rhythm, slow to the point of catatonic, but Sportacus couldn't bring himself to look away. His own crystal had given up calling out to Loftskip's after a firm demand from Sportacus for it to  _shut the hell up,_ and it had been silent for almost as long as the kids had.

The only thing that drew a smidgen of Sportacus's attention away from Ana and the crystal - mostly the crystal - was the feeling of Robbie's hand on his shoulder.

"If you don't get up and let me check that cut, I'm going to pick you up myself, and probably throw my back out in the process," Robbie muttered, leaning down just into Sportacus's peripheral vision. "I need my back. Without my back I can't do anything but yell, and I  _will_ yell if I hurt my back. And then the kids will start yelling and it'll never end, so could you do me a favor and show some sign of life? Please??"

_One, two-_

Black spots flickered over his eyes. An unfamiliar queasiness accompanied every painfully slow movement he made as he shifted on his knees and turned to face Robbie. The woozy feeling didn't stem from blood loss, he knew that much; the cut wasn't that deep, and the way his mind seemed to lag behind his body as he moved was unlike anything he'd ever felt, so it wasn't because of injury.

Sportacus felt... drained. It was worse than the fluttering blackouts he experienced whenever sugar found its way into his system, and worse than hunger. He dared say it was even worse than the ache of missing his crystal, because at the very least, he knew he had the chance to take his crystal back.

He couldn't take her back. He'd missed his chance, and now-

_Three, four-_

His fingers struggled to find Robbie's wrist, and held tight. His voice came past his lips barely louder than a breath. "Robbie, I can't - I can't lose her, too."

Robbie stiffened. "...I can't help with that, but I can help  _you._ Will you let me look?"

Biting his lip, Sportacus nodded sluggishly. He was only halfway aware of Robbie lifting him up by the arm and steering him towards the bed, settling him down and lifting up his shirt. He was even less aware of the location of the kids in the ship, but he managed to at least notice that they were giving Robbie and Sportacus their space. He occasionally spotted a brightly colored, child-shaped blob moving in and out of his blurry line of sight, and sometimes he could even hear them whispering.

For the next few minutes, he felt the same as he had since the monster had disappeared - like his head was covered in several layers of bubble wrap. 

Breathing became easier, in time, the longer Robbie's palms were pressed to Sportacus's side. Every so often his crystal gave little suggestions, allowing Robbie's aura to do most of the work patching the cut. Eventually Sportacus couldn't smell the blood anymore, and his side stopped aching somewhere along the line. The rest of him still felt uncomfortably hollow, but even Robbie couldn't fix that.

Finding his voice took a little while. It still didn't sound like him.

"...how are the kids doing?"

He heard Robbie snort, his face just out of Sportacus's line of sight. "Probably better than either of us. Worried about you, me, Mom and Loftskip..."

"What did you tell them?"

Robbie's fingernails curled against Sportacus's skin. "Told them that they used too much magic and they need to sleep," he said shortly. "I figured it was close enough to the truth. They, uh, also asked about where the monster went, and if Lazytown was safe again." Slowly, Robbie's face moved around, coming into view with furrowed brows and pinched lips. "I told them I didn't know, and they need to stay inside the ship until we're sure it's safe. It's been... quiet. I thought they might - might come back, since the ship's still grounded, but I haven't heard  _anything_ for at least half an hour. No roar, no tiny earthquakes, nothing." Robbie glanced down at Sportacus's chest. "And  _that_ hasn't gone off at all, so I... I don't know. It doesn't feel right."

Sportacus's hand floated up to his chest; with the ache gone, and his head attempting to clear itself, he allowed himself to concentrate on his crystal a little more. As Robbie had said, it'd been quiet, though that was mostly from Sportacus's own insistence. Still, it hadn't presented any threat to him - the monster was elsewhere, and not heading their way, and that was all he knew.

As his hand grazed the crystal, a sharp tingling rose up his carotid artery. It forced its way past his jawbone and into the front of his skull, and he couldn't hold back a hiss of discomfort. Sportacus saw the briefest flicker of Robbie's wings standing alert and tense before he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his palms to his temples, trying to ride out the unnerving sting of the vision.

Visions hadn't  _hurt_ like this in so long-

"Sportacus??" Robbie sounded needlessly frantic, but it wasn't as if he could see what Sportacus was seeing - he had no way of knowing. His hands framed Sportacus's face, somehow feeling even warmer than they had a minute ago. "Is it the monster? Is it coming back??"

He saw neat hardwood floors, old bleachers in the auditorium, folding chairs stacked up against the walls. A layer of dust clung to everything, attesting to the disuse of the meeting hall - no one in Lazytown bothered using it, the town square served a much better place for public meetings. Sportacus supposed it might be used in the winter, but he hadn't been in town long enough to experience one yet.

The only purpose the town meeting hall served at this point was shelter for the unconscious adults in Lazytown - the ones he hadn't been able to claim as charges.

They were safe, they were right where he and Robbie and Ana and Loftskip had left them, except-

Sportacus felt the vision fade abruptly, leaving a dull throbbing in his skull. He looked up to find Robbie staring at him, lips pulled back worriedly.

"No," Sportacus reassured, clearing his throat. "No, it's not the monster..."

Robbie's wings drooped, visibly relieved. "Okay, then... what  _was_ that about?"

No wonder he'd felt so hollow. He knew most of it was out of numb fear, and a premature mourning that hadn't quite caught up to reality, but some of it - some of it was restlessness. There was a weight that was missing from Sportacus's shoulders, something he'd grown used to over the past couple of days, and he hadn't even noticed that it was  _gone_ until just now. 

His face felt unusually tired, but he still managed to crack just a bit of a smile.

"We need to get to the town hall," Sportacus insisted, doing his best to jump to his feet and prompting a startled squawk from Robbie. "The sleep spell - Robbie, it  _broke._  I didn't realize it earlier until my crystal showed me - someone woke up in the town hall."

He must've spoken louder than intended, because almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Sportacus found both himself and Robbie swarmed by the kids. Stephanie was at the head of the pack, eyes wide and hands wringing. 

"Our parents are waking up??" she asked breathlessly, and Sportacus could all but feel the tension in the other kids, hanging onto his response.

Sportacus half-nodded, kneeling down among the kids as Robbie tried to wiggle out of the circle they'd formed. "I think so," he said truthfully. "The spell that made them fall asleep broke a little while ago. But I still need you all to stay in the ship until Robbie and I are sure it's safe outside." Mustering a grin, he gestured to the couch on the far side of the room. "And I need you to look after Robbie's mom for us."

"What're we supposed to do?" Pixel asked, shooting the couch a raised eyebrow.

"Just keep an eye on her. Come get us in the hall if anything changes."

Stephanie and Pixel nodded dutifully, and the other three followed suite with a little less gusto. Ziggy was the only one who took a moment to ask, "Are you okay now, Sportacus?"

His chest felt cold again, his crystal supplying unhelpful reminders of how drained he was, both in the magical and physical sense. "Yes," he answered, and he hoped he wouldn't be proved a liar. "Robbie helped. And we'll help your parents, too. Stay here, and stay safe. We'll be back soon, I promise."

_Five, six-_

He _really_ didn't want to lie to the kids.

Luckily, none of them seemed to notice the quivering to his voice. He gave them a quick glance and his best smile and all but dragged Robbie out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

As the door closed behind them and Robbie found himself once again blinking against the sunlight. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, though he couldn't tell yet whether that was from alarm at being outside again, or from the autumn chill in the air. He  _could_ tell that the sudden, nearly wrenching pain in his shoulder was due to being grabbed by the wrist and dragged along behind an entirely too excitable elf.

"Sportacus-"

The elf kept dragging, making it halfway across the town square before Robbie finally dug his heels into the fractured cobblestone and brought them to a halt. "Sportacus, I get that you want to make sure they're okay, but we have to come up with a plan first!"

Sportacus gave him an odd look, and Robbie couldn't help but notice that as they were standing still, Sportacus seemed to be struggling to catch his breath. He'd never seen Sportacus so tired as to be out of breath, and maybe once upon a time he would've felt vindictive upon learning that Sportacus could get tired like any normal living person, but the sight was only worrying. "Plan? What are you talking about?" 

Robbie extricated his hand from Sportacus and made a show of folding his arms over his chest. "What, are you just going to walk in there and tell them that they were knocked out for almost two days by a giant monster from the sewers and the only reason their kids were fine was because you magically adopted them, and we're so sorry for all the property damage but you know how those giant monsters are, right? Oh and by the way, it's basically our family's fault that this all happened. Our sincerest apologies for having inconvenienced you!"

His concerns spiraled into a rant before Robbie could get control over himself, and while he felt a certain smugness seeing Sportacus dumbstruck, that didn't ease the anxious worry sitting in his stomach. Sportacus stared at him for a few silent seconds before he bit his lip and glanced at the ground. "I... hadn't thought of that until just now."

Robbie stifled a scoff. "I figured you hadn't." He shifted uneasily on his feet. "We need to come up with some kind of cover story."

Sportacus stiffened. "You mean lie."

"Were you planning on telling them the truth?"

"The kids-" 

Robbie rolled his eyes and kicked his heel into the dirt. "Those kids will accept literally anything you tell them, plus in my experience human kids are more open to the idea of monsters and magic than their parents are." Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Robbie gave the town hall a leery glower, not at all looking forward to whatever discussions and possible arguments would unfold once he and Sportacus stepped inside. "Do you have any idea who it was who woke up?"

The elf scratched his cheek. "...Bessie, I think."

Upon hearing this, Robbie's foot skidded in the dirt. 

"...Bessie?"

Sportacus raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I-" It took a moment, but the elf's expression softened, almost becoming dazed as he stared at the air around Robbie's head. A moment later, his eyes widened. " _Bessie_. You - you made a Deal with her."

"Yeah, long story short, I showed her my wings when I first got them." Robbie didn't feel like elaborating, and he wasn't even sure he  _could._ Of all the memories he'd blocked out in forgetting his wings, that talk with Bessie hadn't been one of the first ones to come back. There were other things he knew, however - things he could recall quite clearly about a much younger Bessie.

Even to this day, he wasn't quite sure if she _knew_ what she was, or if she just liked being able to talk and make people listen. Her skills were most noticeably when it came to Milford, but the other parents listened, too. Probably more so than a human being capable of critical thinking  _should_ listen, but that was one of the perks of being part siren; people tended to indulge you.

Feeling just a bit more optimistic about their chances of salvaging the mess of the past few days, Robbie strode past Sportacus towards the hall. His elf stayed beside him as they went inside, their footsteps echoing off the floor and ceiling. Old posters and fliers haphazardly populated the cork boards on the walls, reminding Robbie more of a school hall than a government building. He hadn't had a chance to look at the halls when they'd been bringing people inside. The stillness inside the hall brought that shiver of unease back to the pit of his stomach, but he maintained a brisk pace. He _had_ to - if he slowed down at  _all,_ he'd probably end up turning around and never showing his face to any adult citizen of Lazytown ever again.

As he and Sportacus approached the auditorium, he finally heard the shuffling and quiet murmurs that must have alerted Sportacus's crystal. Taking a deep breath, Robbie turned the corner through the open door and came face to face with a bleary-looking Bessie.

Her eyes went wide when she spotted Robbie, and wider when she saw Sportacus. She let out a relieved gasp, one hand pressed to the side of her head and her uncharacteristically rumpled hair. "Sportacus! Robbie!" Without waiting for them to respond, Bessie hurried forward, almost stumbling over a still-unconscious person that Robbie would like to think was one of Pixel's parents. He didn't remember most of the people in Lazytown all that well, just where they lived. "Thank goodness you're both here - I'm sure  _one_ of you has an explanation for what on Earth is going on!" she exclaimed, gesturing to the sleeping people.

Robbie shot Sportacus a look, hoping the elf would take the initiative, but Sportacus seemed to be paying more attention to something behind Robbie's head, instead of the disturbingly pleasant-sounding Bessie. Maybe he was just too used to his mother, but Robbie didn't trust the fact that she didn't seem angry with them. He doubted she would stay that way for long, so he drew in a deep breath. "Bessie, uh... something happened yesterday morning. Most of the townspeople were knocked unconscious from it, and we had to move you here to keep you safe."

Bessie stiffened. "I don't see - where are the children?"

Finally Sportacus deigned to speak. "They're on my ship." Robbie wondered if Bessie noticed the way the hero's voice grated over that last word. "They weren't affected like the adults were, they're fine."

"What could've possibly done something like this?" Bessie asked, voice airy and and eyes ever so slightly glazed over.

Robbie bit the inside of his mouth, finger's twitching. Glancing over to Sportacus, he noticed a furrow to the elf's brow, and he glanced back a moment later with a questioning tilt of his head. This confirmed to Robbie that Sportacus  _had_ seen the same thing he just; a faint sheen of purple over Bessie's eyes, like the reflection of an old neon sign.

Sportacus leaned over to Robbie as Bessie still seemed dazed. "I guess that explains why she hasn't pointed out your wings yet."

"My what?" Robbie asked dumbly, before he remembered that he  _still_ hadn't tried to glamour them, or pull them back inside his body. The weight was starting to get familiar enough that he could forget they were there, but now that Sportacus had reminded him, all he could feel was the way they tugged at his skin. "...yeah. That was part of our deal."

"Do you think you can lift it? I don't think it'll let her talk to me so long as it's there."

"What're you mumbling about, Sportacus?" Bessie chided, almost smiling, but not quite. One of her eyebrows twitched, and the corner of her mouth tugged downwards almost to a frown, but something stopped her and kept her looking pleasant and distracted. It was just close enough to how Bessie behaved every day that Robbie was almost fooled, but he knew the Deal was hovering over her head, so he couldn't  _not_ see its effects. 

Robbie lifted a hand and tried to remember the day he showed Bessie his wings, and begged her not to tell anyone. 

He couldn't help but also remember the day she came to his house looking for him, and he yelled at her to leave him alone, and she never came back after that. 

He couldn't be sure that the Deal would lift after all this time, but it probably helped that it was a deal  _she_ made with  _him,_ not a cooperative exchange. Concentrating on the purple shine on her eyes, Robbie reached out and let his aura settle around Bessie, trying to reconnect with the minute slivers of magic he'd left embedded in Bessie's mind decades ago. 

In hindsight, it must have only taken a few seconds, but it felt like it took so much longer for his aura to snag on the splinters in Bessie's mind. Curling his fingers into a fist, Robbie coiled his aura around the magic compelling Bessie to keep his secret. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that releasing her from the Deal meant that she could tell  _anyone,_ not just Sportacus, but Robbie didn't know enough about Deals to know how to alter them. All he could do was make or break them, and this one broke with barely a sound at all.

Bessie blinked the purple out of her eyes, and immediately looked over at Robbie, sweeping her gaze up and down. 

"My goodness," she breathed, mouth hanging open in amazement. "Robbie, your wings are _stunning_." She raised an eyebrow at Sportacus, not missing a beat to point out, "I suppose this means that you two have come to some sort of truce now. And it doesn't even look to me like you needed a Deal to do it." Gaze lingering on Sportacus, she stifled small giggle. "Now how did I never notice that? I was wondering why you were asking me all those things about Robbie... you're not human either, are you?" 

Sportacus lifted a hand and smoothed back his hair, fingers grazing the pointed tip of his ear. "...no, I'm not," he said quietly. "I'm an elf."

Bessie nodded sagely. "An elf... well, I can't say I'm familiar with elves, but I suppose it does fit." Shaking her head, she chuckled, "Elves and fairies... I'm sure this means that whatever knocked us all unconscious is some manner of magical, too."

Sportacus shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Robbie, for the sake of urgency, sprang to his rescue. "Bessie, you remember my mother, right?"

Bessie's expression sobered. Neither Robbie nor Sportacus were accustomed to seeing such a serious look on her face, and her tone remained distinctly grim when she answered, "Yes... I can't quite remember when she disappeared, though. Is that just how fairies are? Everyone forgets about them after they leave?"

"I think so," Robbie muttered, crossing his arms over his chest again. "I couldn't even remember her face after a while..." He shook his head. "Anyway, she didn't  _leave._ She... she got into a fight with another elf. She and my uncle both."

"An elf?" Bessie echoed, before straightening. "That man. The one with that strange balloon?"

Robbie nodded. "They... my mother and uncle and I were trying to leave, and he tried to stop us. They got into a fight and disappeared, and up until the last couple of weeks I had no idea what happened to them." He curled his fingers into his sweater, body leaning slightly to the right where Sportacus was standing. "Something...  _bad_ happened to them. They're not the same as they used to be, and they - they're the ones that caused all this. They're the ones that knocked you out with some kind of sleep spell. Also the town might be slightly, uh, damaged."

Bessie blinked. "...how slightly is 'slightly' damaged?" 

"Most of the town is fine," Sportacus answered, quickly taking over for Robbie. "It's just that some of the roads by the playgrounds and the town square are pretty badly broken... and a couple houses between here and there." 

Bewildered, Bessie asked slowly, "How could three people have possibly done all of that??"

"Two, technically," Robbie said. "My - I got my mother back. It's - it's my uncle and the elf that are the problem."

Bessie pursed her lips. "My question still stands. What do you mean they're not the same as they used to be? What happened? And where did they go all those years?"

Robbie grit his teeth. "In a nutshell? They turned into a monster and were hiding in the sewer." Before Bessie could fully process the words, Robbie hurriedly added, "We have no idea  _how_ it happened, we just want to fix them and stop them from hurting anyone in Lazytown." He was starting to slip, his words coming out a bit breathless, but he couldn't stop himself. "We - we don't know where the monster is right now, and we have no idea what to tell the townspeople. All the kids know, but they're _kids_ , and you at least know enough about magic to understand this whole mess, but nobody else in town will."

"It's a good thing you woke up first, Bessie," Sportacus murmured, mustering a somewhat sheepish grin. "Now that the sleep spell's broken, everyone else should be waking up soon... you have a way with words, if anyone can help us explain things in a way they'll understand, it's you."

"Flatterer," Bessie said coyly. Clucking her tongue, she smoothed back her stray hairs and glanced about the auditorium. Robbie followed her gaze and found their time was already wearing thin, as a couple other people were slowly starting to shift around and wake.

"Robbie," Sportacus whispered under his breath, urgency palpable, "can you pull you wings back yet?"

Robbie grimaced. "I - I don't know. I might be able to just fit them under my sweater for now..." He wasn't particular fond of it, and they fought him every inch, but with some help from Sportacus he managed to work his wings back underneath the sweater. They itched even worse now, and that longstanding ache in his shoulders came back, making him feel like a beetle trapped in a wad of tissue.

There was a sleepy groan from somewhere in the small sea of humans, and Robbie's heart fluttered frantically. Before he could suggest to Sportacus that they make a run for it, Bessie clapped her hands together once and gave them a wry smile. The expression read as both confident and devilish, which was frankly alarming to Robbie, but he listened with rapt attention as she spoke.

"Where would you two be without me?" Bessie remarked, beckoning them closer with a finger. "Listen up, dears. I have an idea." 

 

* * *

 

Milford liked to think he was accustomed to the...  _odd_ happenstances that frequently befell Lazytown. Chief among those happenstances was the antics of one Robbie Rotten, but after a little while he got used to those. It all became part of Lazytown's routine, inasmuch as Lazytown  _had_ a routine. Mostly, Milford liked to think of himself as a fairly adaptable Mayor; he did his best and that was usually good enough.

Usually. 

However, he could only adapt to so much, and waking up in a room that was very much not  _his,_ and not even his own house, was pushing his tolerance levels just a little bit.

"Oh, Milford!" 

Bessie was not  _usually_ a voice he heard in the morning. Well, in all fairness it was, but a phone generally had to come first. This time, she was standing right in front of him, or rather  _over_ him, as loud and lovely and vivacious as ever. Mostly loud. 

Milford blinked away the bleariness of sleep and sat up, trying to take in his surroundings, but Bessie seemed to be absorbing most of his line of sight. "Goodness, Milford, this town can't afford to have its mayor sleeping the whole day away, noxious fumes or no noxious fumes!"

Milford blinked slower. "...fumes?"

"Oh, yes," Bessie chattered, "the earthquake must have hit a pipe in the sewers. All those dreadful vapors were enough to knock out the whole town!" 

"Did - did you say earthquake??" 

Bessie nodded, extending a hand and helping Milford off the yoga mat he had been resting on. "Yes, Milford, the earthquake. Not a large one, thank goodness, every house is still standing - the town square looks terrible, all full of cracks-"

As Bessie was talking, Milford took a moment to look around the room - which he realized now was the auditorium of the town hall - and his stomach twisted. He put _earthquake_ and the sight before him together and nearly stumbled, gripping Bessie's shoulder for stability. "Bessie," he asked breathlessly, "where are the children??"

Bessie's warm smile came as an immense comfort. Patting Milford's hand, she answered, "They were out playing when the earthquake happened, they were up early before everyone else. Sportacus and Robbie brought them up to the airship to keep them out of harm's way."

Milford clutched his chest out of habit, letting out a relieved breath. "Oh, thank goodness..." A moment later, he gave Bessie a puzzled look. "Wait, Sportacus  _and_ Robbie?"

"Why, yes. They've been friends for a little while now - Milford, don't look at me like that, this isn't one of Robbie's games. The two of them kept everyone safe."

Nodding slowly, Milford looked around the room once more, just in time to notice a pair of individuals respectively dressed in blue and purple ducking out of the auditorium. Robbie didn't seem to be actively trying to flee from Sportacus, and Sportacus, for the brief moment Milford saw him, was smiling at the town villain.

Yes. Most days, Milford was accustomed to the strangeness of Lazytown.

Today, for more reasons than he wanted to count, wasn't one of them.

 

* * *

 

 

"I'm baking her a cake."

Sportacus brushed his hand over Robbie's, leaning his shoulder into the hunched half-fae. He was fairly certain that Bessie could gently mislead the entire adult population of Lazytown on her own, a fact for which he would probably be forever grateful. He'd wanted to stick around and see if everyone needed help, but after doing that for the first half of the people who'd woken up, Bessie had quietly insisted that he and Robbie head back to the ship and tell the children the good news.

"A huge cake," Robbie continued, wrapping his pinky finger around Sportacus's for a moment and then letting their hands slip apart. "The biggest and best I've ever made. Three-tiered, at least. The kids can help."

Sportacus grinned. "If I remember correctly, last time you were involved with both the kids and a cake, I ended up being blamed for its theft, and then you locked me in a tiny jail cell for the rest of the afternoon."

"Well, I  _was_ trying to get you kicked out," Robbie muttered.

"Understandable, but _cake_ , Robbie? Really?"

Robbie shrugged. "It would've worked if the kids didn't like you so much." 

Sportacus was about to make some kind of retort about the fact that, kids notwithstanding, cake was a highly unorthodox choice of weapon, but the sentence died in his throat as he felt his crystal start humming on his chest. At the same time, Stingy stuck his head out the airship door and shouted, "Sportacus! Your robot's shiny crystal thing is making a weird noise!"

The humming in his crystal sharpened into a harsh whine. Without thinking, Sportacus burst forward with such speed he nearly knocked Robbie off his feet, and he didn't hear Robbie's startled squawk, or the sound of his footfalls as he also broke into a run. Sprinting across the broken cobble, Sportacus jumped up into the ship with Robbie close behind, his crystal driving cold spikes through his ribs. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to see, but the sight of Loftskip's crystal splitting apart and shattering crossed his mind, or maybe Ana in mid-seizure on the couch. 

What he saw instead was the kids huddled near the couch, silently watching as the crystal in Ana's palm let out one pulsing glow after another, becoming successively brighter each time. Just as steady as the glow was a rising shriek akin to sawblade cutting through wood, grating against Sportacus's ears. With each flicker of the crystal's light, bouncing off Ana's face, Sportacus felt a jagged knife of freezing cold jab into his chest.

He almost tripped as he ran over to the couch, Robbie hot on his heels. The kids stepped back as he dropped to his knees beside Ana, who still laid deathly still. Robbie crouched down on one knee beside him, hovering with his wings released from his sweater and casting a purple tint that was lost in the flashing off-white of Loftskip's crystal.

Still not thinking, Sportacus reached out and cupped his hand over the crystal, hoping against hope that he might be able to take the crystal like he should have done in the  _first_ place-

"Sportacus, what're you-" he heard Robbie say sharply, before two sets of freezing knives jammed their way into both Sportacus's chest and his hand. 

Something white shimmered on Sportacus's eyelids as he squeezed his eyes shut, and when he managed to force them open, he was looking up at the ceiling. The kids were somewhere off to his right, and Robbie was above him, looking down in a wide-eyed panic. 

Both the sawblade shriek and the light were gone. 

Sitting back up with the help of Robbie, Sportacus almost couldn't bear to look at the couch, fearing he'd see Ana limp and  _dead_ and the crystal turned to glittering dust. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the couch's occupants, and found that the light wasn't entirely gone, just a different color. Around Ana's hands, there was a soft spiraling line of dark golden light.

A moment later, her eyes opened, and she sat up so quickly that Sportacus was afraid she was going to fall off the couch. Her eyes didn't focus on any of the people around her, and she stared straight at the wall with her hands clutched against her sternum. Sportacus felt Robbie go stiff beside him, and they watched in mute anticipation as Ana dropped her legs over the side of the couch and stood. She wobbled on her feet for a moment, then slowly limped to the wall near the bed.

Stopping in front of the wall, Ana extended the hand that held Loftskip's crystal. As her fingers curled back from it, the burn scars on her hand became all the more sickeningly obvious.

When she held out the crystal, a slot in the wall opened, and Ana placed it inside, using her other hand to pry it off her palm. The moment it left her grasp, she stumbled back, breathing in sharply and teetering on her heels. Robbie was on his feet in seconds, running over and catching his mother before she could fall.

Sportacus's blood was roaring in his ears as the crystal disappeared into the chamber in the wall, and the engine hummed in the floor.

The lights in the ceiling sluggishly flickered to life, and his voice cracked in his throat.

"...Loftskip?"

The ship's loudspeaker crackled, and Sportacus's crystal stung, showing him flashing colors of white and blue over and over again. 

 _"I'm here, litla hetja,"_  Loftskip murmured, her voice surrounding Sportacus and wiping out all other sounds, _"I'_ _m here."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously I don't know if these boys would've survived without Bessie. She is a saint. A blessing. We would all be lost without her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STEFAN KARL IS DOING BETTER AND THE WORLD IS RIGHT AGAIN

A part of Robbie wished that Sportacus  _hadn't_ listened to Loftskip's calm, repeated insistence that he take the kids back to their parents. He honestly agreed with the ship's logic that Sportacus needed to  _do_ something, and helping the townspeople improved his psyche better than anything else as far as Robbie knew. Sportacus had tried, briefly, to argue that he would rather stay with Loftskip and make sure she was okay. Eventually Loftskip had emerged victorious from that conversation. 

However, with Sportacus off getting the townspeople to their homes to make doubly sure nothing had been damaged by the 'earthquake', that left Robbie with the job of clearing away the remaining evidence of the monster. Bits of mottled flesh and strange plant matter and broken iron chains littered the square, and while everything else could be explained by the earthquake, he didn't want to leave any room for doubt. 

Cleaning up the square wasn't particularly pleasant to begin with, but it was made worse thanks to a looming elephant sitting on his chest, making itself known every time Robbie glanced over at his mother. 

Ana had offered to help Robbie clear away the rubble in the square. At first, Robbie had been all too eager to keep her close by, overcome by the relief that she'd come out of the crystal-induced coma seemingly without issue. 

Now, as they worked in tandem - Robbie spinning loops of magic, Ana gathering scattered plant matter by hand - the uneasy pressure in his chest was almost too much to bear. It got progressively worse every time he noticed her bend down in the corner of his eye, picking up something small and possibly smooth, a stray rock or perhaps a shard of bone or tree root or-

His magic fizzled out, and a chunk of cobble came falling back down onto the ground with a loud  _crack._

Ana was standing stiff as Robbie turned slowly and looked at her. His fingers were shaking slightly, and the only way he could get them to stop was to clench them into fists, which wasn't really a great improvement, but putting the tension in his hands helped keep some of it out of his voice. He tried to think of some easy way to start this conversation, but in the end he succumbed to the reality that it was just better to get it over with.

"You didn't trust me," he said in a clipped tone. 

If it was possible, Ana stiffened even more, to the point of resembling a statue rather than a living person. When she stayed silent, watching Robbie with an inscrutable expression, he continued in the same strained voice, "I  _told_ you Loftskip was safe, and you didn't trust me. You could've - you tried - what the hell were we supposed to do without her?? Or  _you_ , if - if you two hadn't-"

Ana clutched the bundle of decaying plants to her chest. Robbie wondered if she might be trying to use it as a shield; her magic was exhausted, and a gust of wind seemed like it would've been able to push her off her feet, so maybe the rising volume in his voice would have the same affect. "Robbie-"

 _"Why_ didn't you trust me??" Robbie snapped, fingers curling and uncurling as he mentally grappled with whatever elusive fairy logic was playing out in his mother's head. His wings were held tense behind him, fanning out on the exhale and pinching inwards with every short breath that managed to make it through his clenched teeth. The corners of his eyes stung as he waited for his mother's reply.

After a few silent moments passed, Ana drew in a slow breath. Her chin tilted back, and Robbie's eyes narrowed in recognition. "No," he quickly interrupted, hand rising up near his mouth and trying to form some kind of definitive gesture, and only twitching vaguely instead. "No, don't you try to tell me it was for my own good, or there's some kind of  _Rule_ about elf ships. I don't  _care._ Why didn't you trust  _me?"_

Ana's lips parted, and hung open for a few seconds. The creases around her eyes seemed to deepen, and her brow furrowed, fingers curling around the stems and discarded bark in her arms to the point of her knuckles whitening. 

"...Robbie," she began slowly, "I... I didn't..." Her hand came up to her mouth, covering it for a heartbeat before dropping back down to her side. Her eyes shifted, dropping to stare at the ground for a second, but she returned her gaze to Robbie and held it there as she whispered, "I didn't... I didn't think you understood what you were talking about. You never - the war was over and you - you never  _saw_ what they were like." A gust of wind kicked up the stray leaves around Ana's feet, and blew her wayward hair in front of her face, momentarily obscuring her expression. When the wind died down, and her hair fell away, her eyes were strangely red, but not yet glistening. "There are very few things that scare me in this world, Robbie," Ana murmured hollowly. "The hunterships..."

"I get it, Mom," Robbie grated out, sandwiching the bridge of his nose between both hands. "I get it, you're scared of them, but - I don't - you  _said_ you trusted me, when I told you she wouldn't hurt us! And then you - how do I know you won't just try again??" His hands clasped in front of his chin, his breaths ghosting rapidly into his pressed-together palms. "What's stopping you from trying to kill her? If my word isn't enough??" 

"I won't," Ana said quietly. "I  _won't,_ Robbie."

"Why not?" Robbie demanded, throat tightening.

Ana stared, tight-lipped, and answered, "I never knew they could  _regret."_

That answer stopped Robbie's train of thought dead, rendering him speechless for a moment. The suspicion hadn't gone, but his unease shifted more towards bafflement as he slowly processed her explanation. "You - what?"

Briefly, Ana looked across the square at the still-grounded airship. "...I used to think they were as thoughtless as stone, or human machines. I didn't realize they had regrets... and it -  _her_  regrets are the same as mine." 

Robbie couldn't shake his unease, not yet. "What does  _that_ mean?"

"She's a Court-killer," Ana said under her breath, "and so am I." 

The gold shimmer that appeared in her eyes sent a shiver down Robbie's spine, but her solemn confession made his stomach churn violently. Wings drooping, he gave his mother a wary look, slowly asking, "Why does - why does that change things?"

Ana met his gaze, and Robbie almost looked away from the reflective golden shine sitting beneath her eyelashes, but he blinked once, and his mother's eyes returned to their normal silvery blue. Ana sighed quietly, shoulders relaxing almost in defeat.

"If I refuse to accept that she has changed from what she used to be," Ana murmured, "then that means I haven't changed, either." She finally looked away from Robbie, and before she went silent he heard her say, "She already killed the hunter she once was. There's no point in me attacking something that isn't there." She said that with an air of finality that was ringing in Robbie's ears for the next several minutes, even after Ana went back to cleaning the debris from the town square.

Robbie stood staring at her for a while before he forced himself to focus on moving the heavy rubble. His concentration fluctuated, often going back to his mother's words, and the strange simplicity of her explanation. Nothing was  _that_ straightforward, or at least... it  _hadn't_ been, in recent years. He found himself struggling to think all the way back to childhood, where her reasons and justifications might have been as clear as day to him, no explanation needed.

The doubt circling in his head was unfamiliar, and he didn't like it. He reminded himself that trust had to go both ways to work, and if his mother said she wouldn't try to hurt Loftskip again... he'd do his best to believe her. 

Another fifteen, maybe twenty minutes passed before the square was cleared of all evidence of the fight between most of Robbie's family and the monster made of the missing two. Ana collected all the plant debris - and more than a few rotted pieces of flesh - into a pile in the center of the square, and after sketching out a simple conduit circle on the ground around it, Robbie set the entire pile ablaze. Gasoline and a few matches might have done the trick, too, but the purple-tinted bonfire he created burned through the material much quicker, and left no trace behind, not even ash.

The purple glow of the fire washed over his mother's face as she watched it burn, and Robbie finally mustered the courage to walk over to her and sling an arm around her back. The moment he touched her, she crumpled into his side, pressing her cheek into his shoulder. Burying his nose in her hair, Robbie stared at the flames and asked, "Mom... what happened inside the crystal?"

Tension spiked, particularly in the stiffening of his mother's shoulders, but it slowly ebbed away as she allowed herself three controlled breaths before answering his question. "There was a lake of black oil," Ana said, "and road flares. She was..." Ana gestured with both arms at the empty air, her hands spread wide apart. "She was immense. Taller than any of the buildings in this town, and... chained to the darkness." She lifted her head from Robbie's shoulder, staring at the air behind his head with wistful, heavy-lidded eyes. "I... had my wings, while I was there. I could  _fly_ again." 

Robbie's hand tightened on his mother's shoulder, just a bit. Chewing the inside of his mouth, he weighed a few different questions on his tongue, but before he had a chance to ask his mother continued, "I... hadn't realized... they're heavier when I can't feel them."

Whatever questions had been occupying Robbie's mind up until that point faded from his memory, and he silently rested his chin atop his mother's head. She leaned into him, arms crossed tight over her chest, and Robbie rubbed his hand in small circles right between her shoulder blades. It seemed to help, and he felt her relax even as his chest and throat and stomach ached.

They stood watching the crackling bonfire until it burned itself into nothingness and left only its sour-tasting smoke behind. 

 

* * *

 

Sportacus smelled the bonfire from halfway across town, and he was momentarily thrown into a panic because of it. Trying his best not to strain the cut in his side - almost all the way healed, thanks to Robbie - he sprinted back from Stephanie's house and came skidding around the corner into the town square. Once he established that the bonfire was under control, and that Robbie and Ana were both present and seemingly unhurt, Sportacus allowed himself to relax. 

He was slightly tempted to go over and see how the two of them were holding up, but upon seeing Robbie's arm around his mother's shoulders, Sportacus decided to leave them be for a little while. Careful not to draw attention to himself, he quietly hopped through the open door into the airship. The lights pulsed awake the moment he stepped inside, and he shivered when the loudspeaker crackled. 

_"I trust everyone is safe in their homes now?"_

Sportacus stared up at the ceiling, dazed smile on his face. "Mhm," he murmured vaguely, listening to the sound of the engine humming. The noise was slightly different, depending on whether or not Loftskip was consciously in control of it; the subtleties were in the shifting of gears, and the moments of silence between billowing groans, and the way the lights changed in time with soft hisses of air. He doubted anyone else could pick up on the quiet changes in sound, but hearing it made all the difference in the world.

His gaze fell upon a table across the room, littered with scraps of bent and broken metal. He didn't remember it being there before.

As Sportacus walked over to the table, giving it a curious look, Loftskip said,  _"Robbie collected it while you were... settling down."_ There was a brief pause.  _"He also mentioned that after I... after the monster broke free, you became unstable."_

Sportacus stared down at the destroyed remnants of Loftskip's android form, brushing his fingertips over a large chunk of blue metal riddled with five gaping puncture marks. "He told you that...?"

_"Well, in his own words you 'lost your goddamn mind'."_

Sportacus snorted weakly, feeling the corners of his eyes burn. His palm came to rest on top of the caved-in chest plate that used to hold Loftskip's secondary crystal. All at once, in the back of his mind, he could hear the painful screeching of metal against metal, and metal against cobblestone, and crystal against  _claws._ Underneath the chest plate was a chunk of metal that he could barely see, but he  _knew_ was once her head, before it was smashed inwards from the side and the optical lenses were fractured.

Seeing all of that damage, and knowing there was still more he couldn't see, his fingers curled, and his other hand gripped the side of the table with such intensity his whole arm started to shake. The lights around him dimmed, but he barely noticed. 

_"Sportacus-"_

"They almost  _killed_ you," he bit out sharply, before Loftskip could get another word in. He stared with wide, fervent eyes at the pieces of gasoline-stained metal, breaths hitching in his throat. "They almost killed you and I couldn't-" His hand flinched away from the metal and found its way to his head, gripping his bangs as he shuddered. "I don't - I don't even  _remember_ what I did, just that I - that I  _couldn't_ let them go, and if Robbie - if Robbie hadn't been there-" 

 _"I will be forever grateful that he was,"_ Loftskip said quietly, and Sportacus clamped his mouth shut.  _"I am so sorry that I wasn't there to help bring you out of that fury, litla hetja. I should have been more careful. I **will** be more careful, next time."_

Sportacus sucked in a sharp breath and clenched his fist, and he felt the metal table buckle and bend under his hand. Slowly prying his hand away from the corner of the table, he found an imprint of his fingers had been left behind. "What next time?? We can't - I don't even know  _how_ to fix this!" he scowled, gesturing with a now aching hand at the metal scrap. 

 _" **I** know how to fix it. It will take time, more time than we have to spare. Fortunately, I have other options," _Loftskip said, before the lights flickered and the engine's hum changed. Sportacus snapped to attention as he heard gears churning in the walls, and upon turning around he saw a panel open beside the bed. A part of him expected to see Loftskip step out in android form - somehow - but instead he was greeted with an entirely different sight.

As the wall panel slid open, a pile of fabric fell out onto the floor, with Loftskip's secondary crystal sitting atop it. Habit told Sportacus to run to the crystal and collect it, keep it close to his own and keep it  _safe,_ but he could only stare with his brow furrowed and his mouth hanging slightly open as the crystal's light pulsed. The off-white glow sank into the fabric, and the whole ensemble took on a faint aura. Sportacus spotted at least one boot, sticking out from beneath something that might have been a blouse, and a few other pieces made of leather, but he was quickly distracted from the contents of the pile by the way it began to  _move_. 

Bit by bit, the fabric went rigid, sharp lines of concentrated magic silently crackling across every seam. The fingers of a long black glove pressed against the floor, even as a pair of knee-length trousers seemed to inflate, the laces of two leather boots cinching around the ankles and shins. A black steel and leather corset, embellished with blue, practically jumped into the air, legs taking shape beneath it while the upper sleeves of a high-collared cream blouse took solid form. Two arms, adorned with engraved leather vambraces, soon stretched in front of the chest as the buttoned collar straightened, bringing into view a silvery porcelain mask.

The mask lacked any kind of features - mouth, nose, ears - save for two holes where the eyes would be. At first the holes were dark, but a moment later two bright blue lights flickered into existence within them. The mask was enameled with swirling designs that looked like they could be brass or bronze, and the fabric of the collar connected at the top of the mask, giving the impression of there being a head within, despite Sportacus knowing there was nothing of the sort.

Finally, in the center of the chest, above the corset and below where a clavicle ought to be on a flesh-and-blood person, an oval crystal sat affixed like a brooch, the off-white glow of Loftskip's aura swirling through the fabric immediately around it. The mask cocked to one side, 'eyes' dimming slightly and glancing down at the gloved hands. 

Sportacus stared, dumbstruck, as Loftskip flexed her fingers experimentally. She shifted back and forth in her boots, stretching her arms and legs with considerably more flexibility than her other form offered. A part of Sportacus's mind vaguely recognized the designs on the mask, vambraces, and corset as being Old Elvish, but he couldn't quite get his brain around to processing any of the information he was being supplied with. 

Off on Sportacus's left, a voice suddenly cut the silence. "Okay, what the  _hell_ just happened?"

Head snapping towards the door, Sportacus found Robbie standing just inside the ship, slightly blocking his mother from being able to come in along with him. He was staring at Loftskip with the same confused expression that Sportacus assumed was on  _his_ face as well. Lifting a hand, Robbie gestured fruitlessly towards Loftskip, asking with an incredulous voice crack, "Seriously, do you just have an entire  _closet_ full of backup bodies??"

Loftskip shook her head, rolling her shoulders a few times for extra measure. "No, this is the last. I use it sparingly, and I don't believe I've had a chance to show it to Sportacus yet," Loftskip answered. 

Nudging her way around her son, Ana finally got a good look at Loftskip's strange new form, and while she wasn't quite as visibly confused as the other two, her eyebrow did twitch a bit after she got a moment to examine Loftskip's body. Folding her arms over her chest, Ana pursed her lips slightly and commented, "The amount of buckles and buttons seems... impractical, at best."

Loftskip nodded, tapping on the corset. The impact echoed, just loud enough for Sportacus's ears to detect it. "Such golem forms are long out of date in elvish culture," she explained. "They're generally reserved for formal occasions, nowadays." Motioning at the table behind Sportacus, she said, "My android form is much more durable than this... cloth puppet. Admittedly, this one is more comfortable to inhabit, but less effective in combat. Seeing as I don't have a choice, however, I will make do with what I have." She paused momentarily, then said without looking his way, "Sportacus, you're gawking."

Shaking his head, Sportacus cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. "Are you... sure you can fight in that body?" 

Loftskip held her arms out. "It's either this, or the ship, and considering where our problem has gone, I don't think the ship will be of much use."

By now, Robbie had come closer to get a better look at Loftskip's golem form, but he went still as soon as Loftskip mentioned the monster again. His wings drooped behind him, and he warily asked, "You... know where they went?"

"Did they leave the town?" Ana asked quietly. 

"Yes, and yes," Loftskip answered, head turning just to the side, pinprick eyes dimming as if narrowed as she looked out the still-open door. "However, it would have perhaps made our job easier if they  _hadn't_ left the town."

"What?" Sportacus interrupted. "But the kids - their parents-"

"I am not saying I wish that the townspeople were still endangered," Loftskip assured, turning back to look Sportacus in the eye. "I am relieved that they are awake and safe again. That being said... tracking down the monster, and containing them, is going to be much more of a challenge now. Probably a greater challenge than when they still inhabited the sewers."

Robbie gave Loftskip an uneasy look. "...why?? Where did they go?"

Up until now, Ana hadn't quite looked directly at anyone else in the airship. Sportacus had only partly noticed, but he became keenly aware of it when he heard her suck in a soft breath, her fingers digging into her sleeves as she hunched forward just a bit. She stayed that way until Robbie wondered aloud where the monster had gone, at which point she finally looked up.

Sportacus flinched when he saw that flicker of gold in her eyes. 

"They've gone to the only place a creature like them can hide," Ana murmured, her voice somber. Her gaze fell on Robbie, and the gold tint vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared. "I'm sorry, I... I wish you didn't have to go back there."

Robbie froze and went pale, eyes darting to the open door. The rest of their gazes followed, and an unsettling silence descended over the ship as they all stared out at the sunlight and the town square and the open sky.

Just below where his crystal sat upon his chest, Sportacus felt a sharp jab of bitter, freezing cold.

 

* * *

 

In the end, only half of them had the strength to commit to dragging their mass through the streets, between iron-studded houses and through one small vegetable garden that smelled potently of mint. The smell draped over their body as they forced their concentration into all the limbs, stretching their consciousness almost too far, just like the mint slowly absorbing the other plants in that tiny garden.

The soil, at least, provided a momentary respite. Despite the chill in the air, the soil was still warm beneath their hands, clinging to the undersides of their cracked claws. It still wasn't enough to overpower the sting of the ropy iron strangling their body. Not  _nearly_ enough. 

Half of them had been reduced to blurred murmurs, their inner voice barely registering as the other half focused on carrying themselves to safety.

**_Please-_ **

**Almost there, almost-**

Their legs twisted beneath them as they stumbled upon a grassy ditch at the very edge of town. The already wilting weeds went flat under their weight, and their arms sank even lower into the watery mud beneath. Part of them, which had been reduced to a feeble pained whimper, erupted into a wailing scream, scrabbling at the grass in a desperate effort to haul themselves out of the mud.

**_NO -_  NO -  _NOT AGAIN-_**

Their movements were far too weak to lift themselves, but the other half was still just strong enough to heave to one side, pushing with three of their back legs and landing with a thud on the opposite slope of the ditch. Dragging themselves the rest of the way onto the flat yellowing grass, they paused for a moment, breaths heaving past the root-like tongue crowding the inside of their mouth.

The gray slit-pupil eyes on their other head were wide with panic, looking beyond the grass to the looming treeline. Desperation flooded their veins like septic sludge, even as the iron seemed to constrict their ribs even tighter. Labored breaths rasping out of both sets of lungs, they pushed themselves all the way out of the ditch, staggering across the field. With each step, the iron chains chafed against their torso, friction building until their skin split open, and the putrid flesh beneath sat exposed to the blistering sunlight. Blood slowly oozed from the fresh gouges and down their arms, leaving a trail of scarlet smears on the grass. Each breath sent a stabbing pain through their throat, and their upper jaw ached from where the dumpster had impacted, and the sharpness in their throat  _might_ have been bone splinters, but they had no way of knowing that for sure. 

**Almost almost almost-**

Wings fluttering uselessly, they pulled themselves over a fallen tree, fingers prying away loose bark and puffball mushrooms until the air filled with mildewed wood dust and the musty reek of decaying undergrowth. The shadows swallowed them the moment they broke through the rotting log, keeping them safe from the sun, if not the iron - there was no escaping the iron, not yet. Every time they scraped their body against a tree, hoping to loosen the chains, the metal only sank deeper into their skin.

**Where - which way-**

_**Don't know-** _

They stumbled over another fallen tree, and the forest drew them in farther.

 

* * *

 

 _._  
_._  
_K̷͚̦̟̻̝̖͇̒̀̽͐̉̽̉̍̒̊͢e̴͍͍̳͍̦̿̾̓̕͝ê̠̜͓̖̪̓̉͑̓̽̂̉p͔̥͓̭̘͎͔̪̑̎̎̋̎̀̏̿̕ g̴͚͚̖̳͂̈́̇̎͛̑͜o̸̲̜͚͍̗̜̍̈̈̑̈į̢͍̹̻̔̍͗͌̌̿͐̏̅n̷̨̛̮̮͎͙̫͑̾͑̓͜͢͟g̵͎̩̱͍͇͂̌̅̊̒̑̏̽̆͌͜͟..._  
_._  
_._

The sound of the lungs, and the heartbeats roaring, was almost enough to block out the harsh crimson sputter of the crystal. There was a  _wrongness_  to the world outside - danger beneath the ground, on the winding paths, in the old trees standing deathly still. Defenses were still primed, laying in wait for outside threats to come crashing through the woods, across the mushroom-lined borders. 

The crystal whined, sensing  _enemies_ on all sides. The other half shrank away, but there was a familiarity to the world around them that managed to make them deaf to the warning call of the crystal.

Something from the outside reached through the wounds, sank beneath the skin and muscle.

It found a safe harbor in the cold void sitting just a little off-center behind the lungs, the ribs, and the two hearts beating barely out of sync. 

 

* * *

 

The forest swallowed them whole, and they couldn't see the sky after a little while. The tree canopy overhead, which had once allowed a little dappled sunlight to peek through, was now so dense with pine-needled branches that the forest seemed to have been plunged into an early nightfall. The farther they hobbled, the thicker the tree trunks became, their roots a vast spiderweb coated with a springy layer of discarded pine needles and aging ferns. They couldn't remember when, but at some point they had come past a line of moss-coated boulders jutting up from the ground, and that was the last place they had felt the burning sun.

Past the boulders - and the mushrooms scattered between and around them - the trees were centuries older, with bark like scar tissue. From the outside, the forest didn't look like it was nearly old enough to hold such trees, but they flanked the stumbling creature by the dozens. The behemoth trees were wider than the creature was long, insides carved away in some places, their exposed roots hiding dark holes filled with mulch. Enormous lichens and shelf mushrooms almost as big as their torso clung to the trunks, thickest at the base and fading into the dark canopy.

Movement, as well as the darkness, helped stave off the pain. Every time they stopped, the iron made its presence known. 

**_Please - it hurts it hurtsithurtsitburns-_ **

**Where-**

_**Just - just - just keep going-** _

The ground gradually sloped downwards, earth giving way to an ever thickening network of roots until the ground seemed  _only_ made of roots. Ferns and mosses huddled in the shadows of the trees, shrinking away when the creature passed them, and springing back immediately if they happened to be stepped on. The colors here were richer, greens so vibrant they seemed to glow, and the growing humidity more befit summer or late spring, rather than autumn. The creature only noticed the change in temperature once it became hard to breathe.

The return of sunlight, however, they noticed the instant it fell across their skin.

Once the craterlike slope of the forest leveled out, stranding them in a landscape of towering trees and roots covered in a mix of pine needles and broad leaves, they felt the prickle of sunlight on their back. Shrinking back with a hiss, they hunkered in the shade, palms scraping on the rough roots. Staring first at the ground, they noticed a strange pattern to the shadows, and when they craned their head back, they found the tree canopy overhead was no longer a single dark mass. Instead, the branches of each tree shied away from the rest, forming a striking series of cracks in the canopy, through which the sunlight came streaming down. 

Everywhere the sunlight illuminated the undergrowth, particles of dust as bright as fireflies swarmed the air. If the creature happened to look at them a bit closer, the dust seemed to come in different colors - greens, yellows, blues, purples. They glittered like discarded butterfly scales, or as if each were a tiny butterfly in and of itself, and where the swarm was densest, the heavy-breathing creature came to an abrupt halt. 

Among the already enormous trees stood a singular titan that dwarfed them all. Its canopy met with all the rest, but its trunk was like too many trees fused together, and the flecks of dust in the darkness around it glowed like a patchwork of stars. Ferns taller than the creature circled the base of the tree, as did dozens of smaller saplings, and scattered over the ground were small piles of gourds, all covered in dirt and moss. 

The lichen-covered tree was hollow, its edges smooth, the gaping black maw stretching halfway up the trunk's height. The glittering dust was absent from the hollow, but the warmth was multiplied, and the humidity sweltering. 

Inside their chest, the crystal sputtered once, and fell silent. 

The ground within the hollow was covered in springy moss, and the ivy-draped inner trunk was pockmarked with hundreds of tiny mushrooms. The tree's own roots, and maybe the roots of others, had woven their way into the wood, climbing up the sides and disappearing into the ivy. Wheezing hoarsely, the creature brushed their side against the inner trunk, and where the iron chains touched the ivy, the plants blackened and fell to the ground. 

They stared up at the space where the roof of the hollow should be, and felt... cocooned. Or maybe entombed.

**_Safe._ **

A part of them had never been more scared.

**But-**

_**Doesn't hurt, doesn't hurt.** _

Sure enough, the biting pain of the iron had faded. Up on their back, their wings fluttered with something akin to relief, and they let out a ragged whine before their legs gave out beneath them.

The moss was softer than anything they'd ever felt. 

They closed their eyes and let the darkness inside the hollow drag them down into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *backflips out of the sewers and straight into a tree trunk*
> 
> -
> 
> Starting this weekend I'm going to be in Bermuda, sans laptop, so it'll probably be something in the ballpark of two weeks before the next chapter comes out. Rest assured, the story isn't going anywhere! I will get right back to it once I return from the land of Suspiciously Warm Oceans and Snorkeling :D


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BAAAAAAAA-AAAACK

Sportacus found Robbie on top of the airship as evening arrived. By then, Lazytown's shadows had turned a deep purple, and every surface they didn't obscure was bathed in a sharp reddish-orange hue. The already strange contours of the town, further warped by the impending sunset, almost prevented Sportacus from catching sight of Robbie's lanky silhouette. His moment of relief was quickly dampened when he noticed the distinctive hunch of Robbie's figure, which already looked less than cheerful at a distance and looked increasingly worse as Sportacus scaled the ship.

Up close, Robbie's entire posture radiated moodiness with the same intensity as a warding spell. Given how dedicated he was to frowning at the horizon, he didn't seem to notice Sportacus's approach until he reached out and laid a hand on Robbie's shoulder. 

Wings came up in a half-second, standing stiffly upright after a moment of startled fluttering. Robbie's head whipped around with an audible popping sound, and Sportacus cringed despite himself upon hearing it. Robbie blinked and matched the grimace, crossing his arms over his chest as he muttered, "You're going to give a man a heart attack, sneaking around like that."

Sportacus gave Robbie a pointed look. "Now you know how I felt when  _you_ were always sneaking around, getting yourself stuck in trees or billboards." Sitting down next to Robbie, he offered a well-meaning smile and asked, "Any particular reason you've picked the top of the ship as your brooding perch?"

Robbie shrugged. "Seemed quieter up here," he mumbled, then added, "and I'm not  _brooding."_

"Well, then what _are_ you doing?"

His nose scrunched, and Sportacus stifled a chuckle. "I'm not doing _anything_ , in fact," Robbie retorted, "not - not even thinking. Nope, I'm not thinking at  _all,_ not about the least little itty bitty thing." He gestured in the general direction of the ground and the ship's door, then tucked his knees up to his chest and crossed his arms atop them, burying his head in his sleeves. "I'm specifically doing the exact opposite of thinking. There was already too much  _thinking_ down there."

Sportacus draped his legs down the side of the ship and leaned back, bracing his weight on his hands as he listened to Robbie's disgruntled protests. His line of sight fell upon the distant outskirts of town, mired in a mosaic of shadows and orange planes of light. Looming beyond the town, separated from the buildings by only a short stretch of meadow, rose the grayish outline of treetops, all of them taller than the largest building in Lazytown.

Before the lull of silence fully overcame the both of them, Sportacus asked quietly, "You're thinking about the forest, right?" 

Robbie lifted his head, slowly dragging both hands down his face. " _Yes,"_ he whined, shooting a venomous glare at the horizon. "I don't - I don't  _remember_ it. I know it gave me nightmares, I know I was scared of it, but I don't remember  _why!_ Was I scared of the other fairies or the actual  _place?_ How _big_ is the forest? And I know that forests are supposed to remember their fairies, but does that still work after the Court is gone??" Wing-tips twitching, he rounded on Sportacus. " _You_ went into the forest, how bad was it??"

Sportacus frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "Robbie, I didn't... I didn't go very far into the forest. I stayed right around those little paths, and I'm pretty sure those don't fully cross over the boundary." Saying the words out loud made him feel even more helpless, and when he saw how Robbie wilted, Sportacus wished he'd come up with something that sounded a little more encouraging. "We're not going in blind, at least," Sportacus attempted to reassure, "we'll have Ana this time." 

Robbie scowled. "Yeah, if she ever gets around to actually  _telling_ us anything," he said sullenly. Sifting his fingers through his hair, Robbie knocked his forehead against his knees and mumbled, "You were just there, right? Was she still  _thinking?"_

"Yeah," Sportacus sighed. "I mean, there's a lot she has to remember..."

"I _know_ , I know," Robbie said with a groan. "It's just - it's already getting late, if we have to wait until morning - who  _knows_ what could happen to them in there!"

Sportacus let slip a smile. "We'd have to wait until morning regardless. Unless, of course, you'd rather go into the forest at  _night."_

"...no," Robbie relented. "No, I would very much  _not."_

"I didn't think you would," Sportacus chuckled. "Ana can explain the forest to us, we can work out a plan of approach, get a good night's sleep..."

Robbie rolled his eyes. "Can't remember the last time  _that_ happened. I'm amazed you haven't dropped dead from sleep deprivation yet."

He shrugged slowly, fighting off the sudden temptation to yawn. Truth be told, the handful of hours per night that was serving as his time to sleep was probably going to catch up to him at some point. However, regardless of his personal preferences, elves were built for endurance, and he planned to endure until this mess was dealt with. "It's... well, it is what it is. It's not an  _insurmountable_ obstacle." 

"No, of course not, that would be the  _forest,"_ Robbie groused. Drumming his fingers against his knees, he gave Sportacus an unamused look. "How come you're so upbeat about all of this? I can't be the only one who realizes how  _insane_ this is!" 

"We're _safe_ ," Sportacus said immediately, and Robbie's sour expression softened. "The kids are safe, so are their parents... neither your mother or Loftskip are in trouble..." He gestured at himself and then at Robbie. " _I'm_ not on the verge of losing my control, and you're not hurt. Right now I'd say we're better off than we were when I first came to town."

Robbie made a visible attempt to scowl, but it came of as a nervous wince instead. "Sure, except for the giant _monster_ , we're all just peachy." He narrowed his eyes at the right side of Sportacus's chest. "Plus, you forgot to mention  _that."_

"It's healing fine, thanks to you," Sportacus said, trying to move past the subject. Scooting a bit closer to the left, he brushed his arm over Robbie's, and in a half-second the man leaned into him heavily, wings drooping. Sensing the invitation, Sportacus brought his arm up around Robbie's shoulders, letting his head rest against Sportacus collarbone. "Look at it this way, Robbie; this time we know where they are, and no one else is at risk of being hurt by them. We have time to make a plan, and we have more help."

"...I guess," Robbie admitted after a silent minute. "But the sooner we can talk about it, the better. How long has she been at it, anyway? I lost track." 

Sportacus raised an eyebrow and glanced at the horizon, trying his best to gauge the time. "About two and a half hours, so far."

Robbie groaned into Sportacus's shoulder. "That's it, wake me up when she's got something to tell us." 

Grinning, Sportacus glanced away from Robbie, gaze falling on the vivid yellow cirrus clouds painted over the darkening sky. Evening had now rendered the forest a stark black silhouette, but a few lingering reddish rays of sunlight still managed to pierce the treetops. A flock of birds - presumably crows - emerged from the edge of the forest, their croaking calls quickly lost as they disappeared into the cloud cover. Aside from that momentary interruption, the town was completely quiet, and the top of the ship felt blissfully detached from the rest of the world. 

"Try and stay awake a little longer, Robbie," Sportacus insisted gently, "I can't imagine you get to see many sunsets like this." 

Robbie made a small grunt of acknowledgment. "I can tell what you're doing. You're not subtle."

"Is it working?" Sportacus asked, grin widening. 

At first Robbie didn't answer. He didn't look up at Sportacus, or even move much beyond a brief flutter of his wings. His head stayed put on Sportacus's shoulder, and from that angle Sportacus couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. Robbie's response eventually took the form of his hand slowly wrapping around Sportacus's waist, fingertips drifting over the line of the mostly-healed cut just above Sportacus's hip. 

"Be more careful," Robbie finally whispered. " _Please_."

Sportacus was tempted to try and point out the sunset again, but he had a feeling Robbie would have little interest in it at the moment. He gently squeezed Robbie's shoulder, and a moment later he felt the same from the hand on his right side. 

"I'll do my best," he promised.

"Good," Robbie murmured, his breath gusting warmly over Sportacus's clavicle. He went quiet after that, wings flicking every so often, and Sportacus returned his attention to the setting sun, watching yellow turn to orange, until the sun was halfway below the horizon, and the clouds were lost in a curtain of rich red light. For a few minutes, the red mixed with the murky blue around some larger clouds to create a color nauseatingly reminiscent of a bad bruise, or maybe rotting flesh.

Sportacus did his best not to look at that half of the sky, but it still managed to creep into his peripheral vision, making his stomach churn. The blemish on the sky persisted until the sun dipped all the way below the horizon, and even after that, the sight of it maintained a presence in Sportacus's memory for the next several minutes. 

Without the sunlight to give them shape, the outline of the trees bled into the night sky, making the forest seem endless, as if it had grown in a matter of minutes, encircling the town and all its inhabitants. A shiver ran down Sportacus's spine, and he tipped his head back and concentrated on the tapestry of newly emerged stars instead. 

He kept his eyes on the stars, and the occasional smudges of black cloud that obscured them, until he heard Loftskip emerge from the ship's door, calling for Sportacus and Robbie to return.

 

* * *

 

While both Robbie and Sportacus had made themselves scarce from the ship as the hours wore on, Loftskip had no complaints about waiting. She'd stationed herself beside the table as soon as Ana had informed them that she would need time to fully recall the nature of the Court forest; since then she'd kept herself busy sorting through blue and black scrap metal. At all times, at least a little part of her attention rested upon Ana, sitting cross-legged on the couch, eyes open and listlessly staring into empty space. Her hands laid palms-down on each thigh, completely still with the exception of her left thumb, which traced circles on the fabric so slowly that Loftskip wasn't entirely sure it was even moving at first. 

In fact, Ana's entire body was so still that Loftskip found herself scrutinizing the woman with great intensity every now and again, just to make sure she hadn't slipped into a comatose state. Ana's eyes only blinked once every five minutes, and the only indication that she was still breathing was the rhythmic swaying of stray hairs that had fallen in front of her mouth. She barely reacted when her son excused himself to catch a breath of fresh air, though Loftskip had noticed Ana's gaze following Sportacus when he'd ducked out to look for Robbie. 

Other than that, Ana had remained silent and meditative for the past several hours, and she only began to stir well after the sun had gone down. The sound of her sharp inhale echoed around the ship, triggering a handful of alerts in the ship's computers as Ana's aura swelled back to what Loftskip could only assume was its full strength. As she stood, a gossamer web of gold settled around her body, if for only a half-second before it went invisible.

Loftskip watched Ana stretch and crack her neck twice, and stayed quiet until Ana's gaze fell upon her, eyebrows furrowed. "Why aren't they in the ship?"

"They got bored," Loftskip explained, cocking her head towards the ceiling. "I've kept my sensors on them, they're on top of the ship."

Ana slowly nodded, squinting at Loftskip. "Both of them?"

"Robbie left first. Sportacus went to keep him company about a half an hour ago."

"Hm." Ana cracked her neck once more. "Tell them to come down, we've a lot to discuss."

Setting down the piece of scrap she'd been in the midst of examining - part of what she assumed had once been one of her flamethrowers - Loftskip stepped over to the door and stuck her head out into the crisp night air. "Sportacus! Robbie! Please return to the ship, Ana is awake!" 

There was a small amount of scuffling on the top of the ship, and after a moment Loftskip heard Sportacus's voice. "We'll be right there!"

Loftskip pulled herself back in the door, tapping her fingers on the wall as she turned back to face Ana. She found the woman staring at her down her nose, chin tilted back and arms crossed over her chest. Eventually, Ana's gaze shifted over to the door behind Loftskip, and her lip twitched. "He's... not quite what I expected," Ana said lowly. 

"And what  _did_ you expect?" Loftskip asked warily.

Ana's eyes stayed fixed in their sockets, and her whole head swiveled to stare at Loftskip pointedly. "I thought he would be more like his family."

Loftskip didn't even realize at first that her magic had responded to Ana's words. It took the combination of Ana's eyes suddenly flicking downwards and the slow feeling of electric warmth rising up Loftskip's arm for her to become aware of her body's defensive reaction. Glancing down, she saw that five ghostly bluish-white claws had appeared around her fingertips, accompanied by thin lines of concentrated aura arcing up and down her forearm. 

She couldn't remember the last time she'd manifested aura claws; certainly not since she'd transferred to her android form. 

The older body clearly remembered its old habits. 

Across the room, Ana gave a short exhale of a chuckle. "Put those away, I'm not interested in exacting revenge."

Still keeping an eye on Ana, Loftskip brought her hand up and focused on the spectral claws. Snuffing them out was more difficult than anticipated, and they only fully disappeared once she clenched them into a tight fist. Shaking out her hand - the fabric of which now crackled with static - she said coldly, "I'm surprised it took you this long to bring it up."

"It took me this long to recognize him," Ana replied. "Your elf's face was familiar, I just couldn't place the resemblance until I had time to properly think." A loud thump sounded outside the ship, and Ana glanced out the door again. "What are they, if I may ask? Brothers?"

"Cousins," Loftskip murmured, finally getting the last lingering traces of static out of her arm. "I hope that's not the entirety of what you want to discuss."

"No, it's not." Ana perked her head up as footsteps hurried around to the door, and a moment later Sportacus came springing up into the ship, with Robbie close behind and looking a little like he'd just been woken up from sleep. Loftskip stepped a bit more to the side, letting them both come into the ship before she waved a hand and closed the door behind them. At the same time, the ship's lights brightened, and Robbie winced and shielded his eyes slightly as they did. 

"No point in small talk," Ana said, getting their attention with a clap of her hands. "I've recalled what I can about the forest. None of you have any idea what to expect in there, and you need to know these things before we can create a plan to get Glanni and-" her lips pinched for the briefest of seconds, "- _Íþróttaálfurinn_ back." She extended a hand towards the table and couches on the other side of the ship. "Robbie, sweetheart, please wake up a bit. You'll need to pay attention, too." 

Robbie nodded sluggishly as he and Sportacus followed Ana over to the table, both of them taking a seat. Loftskip hovered beside the arm of the couch, and Ana stood on the opposite side of the table from them. She pushed a few mugs and napkins that hadn't gotten cleared away yet to the side, fingers on one hand rapping against the empty air. "Do you have any large pieces of paper?" she asked, glancing between Loftskip and Sportacus.

Sportacus straightened up a bit. "We have letter paper, would that work?" 

Ana pursed her lips. "Larger would be better, but yes, that would work. And a pencil."

Sportacus nodded, and had barely gotten through saying "Ship-" before Loftskip snapped her fingers, and a panel opened right above the table, causing a couple sheets of paper and a single pencil to fall down in front of Ana. Giving the ceiling a narrow-eyed look, she laid two sheets of paper beside each other and began drawing something upon them. Robbie and Sportacus waited in silence for Ana to finish whatever she was drawing, though Loftskip did notice the both of them shifting around every so often, Robbie fidgeting with his cuffs and Sportacus pinning his hands beneath his thighs.

Neither of them took their eyes off the paper, not even once Ana leaned back, set the pencil aside, and turned the pages around to face the rest of her company. "I was never much for cartography, but this should still be accurate enough to serve its purpose." She motioned for them to come closer, and Sportacus surged to his feet immediately. Robbie took slightly longer to heave himself out of a semi-comfortable slouch, and Ana waited until he and Loftskip had come to stand on either side of Sportacus before she pointed at the hastily drawn map.

"The first few hundred feet of forest isn't part of the Court," she explained, indicating a series of loose tree-like squiggles outside a thick black line, which had several thinner lines extending from it. "These paths are safe for humans to traverse, but even they don't go into the inner forest - and they won't help any of us. Any foreign magic user is classed as a threat by a conscious forest."

At this, Sportacus raised a hand. "I went into the forest, about... two, three weeks ago? Before this all started... the trees didn't hurt me. Even after I went off the path."  

Ana gave Sportacus a look that was somewhere between suspicion, disbelief, and maybe a little bit of mild shock. "You..." She licked her lip, glancing momentarily at Robbie before returning her attention to Sportacus. "Well... as I said, a conscious forest would've retaliated against a threat, but I could tell as soon as my magic returned that this one is acting on instinct alone. Their Court's long gone." Her eyes didn't waver from Sportacus. "What could've possibly compelled you to walk into a fairy forest??"

Sportacus shrugged. "Desperation, I guess. But the forest - if it's not conscious, we shouldn't have too much trouble getting through it, right?"

"Wrong," Ana said, and Sportacus visibly deflated. "The outer trees are the first to lose their power after a Court moves on, and are the least likely to return an intrusion with deadly force." Dragging her finger down the denser squiggles past the black line, she tapped a semicircle of large dots that bisected one paper and continued onto the next. "Getting through the outer forest will be straightforward enough if you can avoid some of the traps, but the inner forest is another matter entirely, starting with the border. These boulders usually contain fae sentries, but luckily we won't have to worry about that. There will still be fungal traps to avoid, and the trees are more aggressive."

" _How_ aggressive?" Robbie asked, planting his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hands while he looked at the map. 

Ana hummed and tilted a flat hand back and forth in the air. "More so than the outer trees, less than they would be if a Court was commanding them. Provided we don't get too close to the largest ones, there shouldn't be a problem."

"What about this part of the forest?" Loftskip asked, pointing at a pair of parallel lines that curved opposite the boulders, and overlapped with them among a dense group of tree squiggles before disappearing. 

"That," Ana replied, fingers curling on the table, "is the river. It serves as the border along with the rocks, and it looks as smooth as the surface of a pond. I lived among this Court for a few years, and even  _I_ had difficulty crossing the river at times. The rest of the forest can tell the difference between foreigners and its own, but the river... those waters only know how to take. Enemies, humans, careless fae children..." She dragged a hand down her face and cleared her throat. "There are still ways to cross it. It will be easier now that the river doesn't have the hollow to give it strength." 

"...the hollow?" Robbie echoed, stiffening. "Why do I - I  _know_ I've heard of that, what is it??"

Ana's eyes didn't quite meet Robbie's, or anyone else's for that matter. Instead, she spread her hand out over a jagged circle she'd drawn in the middle of the paper. "The hollow is the center of the center, Robbie. The true Court - or whatever's left of it now - lies inside an overgrown crater in the forest. Hollows..." Her brow furrowed. "They're... well, they're..." Her fingernails scratched sharply on the table. "They're immense. Beautiful. But we forget them, every time we leave a forest. One of the safety measures, so that if a fae is captured, they can't lead the way back to the hollow. You can still find them, but it's harder when you don't remember, of course. If we can get into the crater, it won't be too difficult, at least - the hollow is always the first thing to lose its power once the Court leaves."

Leaning away from the table, Ana gestured at the two pieces of paper, and finally gave the others a dire look. "Even without the Court's presence, there are still plenty of ways to be hurt in this forest, and the rest of our family is somewhere inside there. I propose the most efficient way to track them down is to split into two groups and search the forest from dawn to dusk until we find them. If we don't find them tomorrow, we need to leave before nightfall. Staying in a fairy forest after dark is tantamount to suicide." 

"Wait, you want us to split up??" Robbie squeaked, wings flaring out to the sides.

Ana nodded. "One fae and one elf per team, to maximize each team's magical ability." She glanced at the ceiling and the walls. "Unfortunately, this ship will be useless. I doubt its sensors will penetrate the canopy cover, at least not without bringing it dangerously close to the trees. The forest may ignore us if we tread carefully, but a source of elvish power as large as a ship will needlessly provoke the trees." 

Sportacus looked at Ana dubiously. "Robbie's got a point, if we split up - walkie-talkies don't work in that forest very well, the kids found that out earlier in summer. We won't have any way to communicate with each other."

Loftskip rubbed her thumb over the chin of her mask. "Sportacus, Robbie," she spoke up, "I understand your concerns, but in this case, I believe Ana has the right idea. Searching the forest together will take considerably longer, and risk the creature running into more trouble." Seeing Sportacus open his mouth as if to argue, she held up a hand and snapped her fingers again. "While we may not be able to actively communicate, we can use flare guns to let each other know if we run into a problem." A panel above her opened, and a small plastic handgun fell down into her waiting hand. A moment later a few red and green flare cartridges tumbled down onto the table. 

Sportacus's eyes went wide upon seeing the cartridges. "Wait, Loftskip, the flares-"

"These are the normal kind, it'll be fine," she assured, handing the flare gun over to Ana. "If each team needs to signal the others, these should work just fine." 

Ana turned the flare gun over in her hands, giving it an appraising look. "...this is a good idea," she said after a minute.

Robbie picked up two of the cartridges, scrutinizing them carefully. "How come they're two different colors?"

"Green cartridge makes green smoke," Sportacus answered. "Red cartridge, red smoke." Immediately after saying this, Sportacus's frown morphed into a tentative grin. "Hey, if we're going to be in the forest all day, shouldn't we maybe send up green flares every couple hours, just to make sure the other team is still okay? And send up a red flare if we need help?"

Loftskip nodded approvingly. "In lieu of proper communication, that seems like the best plan. I have a surplus of flares in storage, so each team should take a large amount when we go into the forest."

"I still don't like this idea," Robbie muttered, setting the flare aside, "but if we're splitting up, I'm going with Sportacus." 

"Mm," Ana grunted in acknowledgment. "You two do seem to cooperate well. In that case, I will go with the - with Loftskip." 

Sportacus and Loftskip nodded in tandem upon hearing these decisions, and Loftskip took a moment to look at the map again. She vaguely noticed that Robbie had grabbed a piece of paper and was doing his best to copy the map in miniature. Tapping near the parallel lines, she asked, "Without the hollow to bolster it, how dangerous is the river?"

Ana cocked her head to the side in consideration. "The river's only dangerous if you fall in, but if you happened to do that  _now..._ I'm sure it would still try to keep you under, but you'd have time to get to the surface, and the combined power of any two of us would more than likely be enough to hold its pull at bay. The river has almost no flow to it, so you wouldn't get swept away, and there aren't any animals that live in it. That being said, there  _are_ places to cross safely; most of them are glamoured, but they aren't too hard to find, especially since those glamours haven't been properly maintained for years." 

"How can you tell where the crossings are?" Sportacus interrupted. "What are they made of?"

Ana closed her eyes briefly, tapping the bridge of her nose. "...stumps," she said slowly. "Look for stumps that seem tipped over into the riverbank. Even if the trunks doesn't seem to be there at first, they're wide enough to cross safely. Just dispel the glamour... or trust your feet," she said wryly, before giving Sportacus a severe look. "Don't try to just feel your way across. Deal with the glamour first."

The corner of Sportacus's mouth twitched. "I - I figured. Yes. Glamour first." 

"You _could_ also cross the river stones," Ana added, "if for some reason you weren't able to find a bridge. I wouldn't recommend it, though, it's too easy to slip." 

"What about the boulder line?" Loftskip asked. "What kind of defenses would it still have?"

Ana rubbed her hand over her mouth. "The boulders themselves won't be a problem without the sentries... however, the ground there is dense with ferns, and there's no shortage of mushroom traps. One wrong step and you'll choke half to death, so - _hm_." She cut herself off suddenly, eyeing the younger two of the group. "I... believe Robbie and Sportacus should search near the river. Loftskip will not be susceptible to the mushrooms if we happen to trigger a trap, unlike both of you." 

Robbie held up his hands, not looking up from his halfway complete recreation of his mother's map. "I'm all for avoiding the death mushrooms. That river can't possibly be worse than the _sewer_." 

"So it's just mushrooms to worry about at the boulders?" Sportacus said hopefully, shoulders relaxing.

Ana scratched her jawline. "Maybe... there are hundreds of holes in the ground once you reach the inner forest. The tree roots overtake the earth the farther in you go, which isn't a problem for a fairy who can fly. Walking is in and of itself dangerous, and  _that_ has nothing to do with magic. Some of the trenches go ten, twelve feet deep. Once you reach the inner forest, tread  _very_ carefully." She narrowed her eyes at the map, brow furrowing again. "Trenches... trenches and  _lures,_ that's it."

"Lures?" Sportacus parroted. "Is that just at the boulders, or-?"

"They're established throughout the whole forest," Ana corrected. "Shapes, sounds... most of them are designed to pull trespassers off the path. Humans, mostly, but they'll try to collect you as well. _Never_ trust the sound of a songbird in a fairy forest. Crows are the only real birds that live in those trees." Ana's eye twitched. "Fireflies don't come out until dark, so you won't have to worry about that... ah, do  _not_ let the butterflies follow you." 

Robbie snorted, looking up from his completed map at last. "Butterflies?"

Ana shot her son a serious look. " _Yes,_ Robbie, butterflies. Doubtlessly they will be everywhere inside the crater, but they are avoidable in the forest. I'm not sure if we really need to worry about them, since there's no one they could possibly alert... all the same, if you attract a swarm, lead them to a meadow or any spot where the sunlight comes through the canopy and then glamour yourself, they'll lose sight of you. And try  _not_ to kill them, that will only attract more." Ana ran her tongue over her lips. "If you do happen to kill one, just draw them to the right place and wait them out."

"Yep. Butterflies. Glamour and sneak away from 'em." Robbie took his copy of the map and wandered back to the couch, slumping down into it and prying one wing out from where it got momentarily pinned underneath him. "So Sport and I are taking the river, you and Loftskip get the boulders... how far do you think the creature could've gotten since yesterday?"

"Not very far, unless they managed to dislodge the iron," Loftskip answered. "And even if they were able to get free of it, the forest has to be incredibly restrictive of a creature that size."

"The forest would be, yes," Ana added. "If they followed the river, they may have gotten farther, the undergrowth isn't as thick along the water."

Sportacus left the table and went over to sit with Robbie, leaning over his shoulder to look at the map. Loftskip heard a few quick murmurs exchanged between them as they pointed at a few spots along the line of the river. Robbie then scribbled something down on the map while Sportacus looked up and asked, "What should we do if we find their trail? What kind of signal should we use?"

"...two green flares, one after the other?" Loftskip suggested. "Or a red flare, if you actually find the creature." 

Sportacus nodded pensively, chin sitting in his hand and index finger tapping his lips. Letting out a sigh, he whispered something else to Robbie, then turned his attention to Ana. "So we've got butterflies, the river, the trees... what other kinds of things could be dangerous?" 

"Just about anything," Ana said without even a second of hesitation. "But there are ways to circumvent just about any potential conflict." Ana began counting off on her fingers as she listed, "Don't damage saplings, keep yourself glamoured wherever the sun hits the ground, walk counterclockwise around fairy rings, don't eat _anything_ you come across... that one should be obvious even for you elves... do _not_  fall asleep. If you start feeling fatigued, head back out of the forest."

As Ana was talking, Robbie was jotting down what Loftskip assumed were notes about every warning his mother gave. Sportacus was mostly paying attention to Ana as she spoke, occasionally glancing at what Robbie was writing. Once Ana paused for a breath, Sportacus asked, "Aside from the paths, is there any place in the forest that could be made safe? If we needed to rest for a minute or two?"

Ana pursed her lips. "Well, staying put for a couple of minutes shouldn't put you in any danger... longer than that, you'd have to establish some kind of protective wards, which is a worthless expenditure of energy. The trees are simply too overwhelming for any temporary wards to survive long against them."

"Even if you and I set them up?" Robbie wondered, looking up from his map.

"If anything, our wards are  _more_ likely to fail," Ana sighed. "Elvish magic might fare  _slightly_ better, but only if you could find an auspicious site that correlates to your magic, of which there would be very few, if any at all. If you were to try and protect a site for any length of time... a large, clean stone might do the trick, if it were away from trees. Or if all four of us combined our strength..." She shook her head. "Better to just keep on the move."

"I agree," Loftskip said with a nod. "The three of you should do your best to sleep well tonight. There is no telling how much injury the creature may have sustained since entering the forest. Ana," she turned to face the Seelie woman, "what time would be best to leave?"

"Dawn," Ana replied. "And we should leave no later than dusk. The twilight hours will dampen the forest's defenses." 

Robbie tapped his pencil against his knee, face scrunching as he tried to suppress a yawn. Blearily running his hand over his face, he murmured, "Is that everything?"

"Everything the forest can muster without its Court," Ana said. Collecting her two pieces of map, she gave a curt nod to Sportacus and Loftskip, and a soft smile to Robbie. "Unless anyone else has any further questions or additions to our plan, I would like to get some sleep."

Loftskip remained quiet, and Sportacus shook his head. Robbie only tossed the pencil onto the table and folded up his map. "Good plan. Solid plan. Just delightful," he sighed, before he was cut off by a long yawn. Stuffing the folded paper into his pocket, he squirmed around on the couch and nudged Sportacus with a foot. "Shoo. I call dibs on the couch." 

Sportacus stood quickly, letting Robbie stretch out over the cushions. Loftskip couldn't help but observe a grin fighting its way onto Sportacus's lips, but he was doing a remarkable job of hiding it. Loftskip reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder, tilting her head behind her to the bed. "You should get some sleep now, too. I will take care of packing our supplies."

There was only a flicker of hesitation in Sportacus's eyes, and it was quickly squashed as Loftskip continued staring him down. Managing a smile, Sportacus said a quick, "Thank you, Loftskip," and cast a glance back at Robbie before he headed for the bed against the wall. As he left, Loftskip pushed the table back into the wall and motioned for the ship to dim its lights.

She turned back to the couch just in time to see Ana brush her fingers through Robbie's bangs, and lean down and lay a kiss on his forehead. 

A moment later, she disappeared to the other half of the ship, her figure seeming to melt into the couch she'd claimed as her own.

Loftskip did her best to be as quiet as possible for the next fifteen minutes, maneuvering in silence and darkness through the ship as she filled four backpacks with food, water, bandages, and one pair of binoculars per team, among other miscellaneous supplies that could come into use at some point. One flare gun and at least a dozen mixed cartridges went into each bag as well.

Once packing was complete, Loftskip sat herself in the ship's pilot seat, staring out through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the sky. The only sound she could hear was the faint chafing of wind against the hull, and the breathing from the other three people in the ship. She could tell each person apart by the sound of their breath; Sportacus fell asleep first, then Robbie shortly after. She wondered, briefly, if they were listening to each other's breath, too.

She could never quite tell when Ana's breath slowed. 

She kept her senses trained on their breathing and little else as the night wore on and the sky began to pale with the coming dawn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned from Bermuda, appropriately sunburned and happy to be back in the temperate New England climate. I wish I could've gone scuba diving more than once... I'd never done it before and it was AMAZING. So many fishies and giant corals! So peaceful...
> 
> However, I did miss access to reliable WiFi and my computer. I've got a lot of catching up to do on art and writing, and the lack of said writing for an entire week really threw off my productivity after coming home. Sorry for not getting this chapter out sooner! The next chapters shouldn't have 2-3 weeks in between them :D
> 
> *rubs hands and laughs evilly* Autumn approaches and y'all know what that means... HALLOWEEN IS INBOUND AND I GOT SPOOKY SPIRIT TO SPARE AND A JASON VOORHEES COSTUME TO ASSEMBLE
> 
> (consider yourselves lucky that I restrained myself until September to start screaming about my favorite holiday :P )
> 
> Sidenote: the dialogue in this chapter was soooooo much fun to write, I wrote the later 2/3rds of this chapter in one evening after work.... gotta love when those creative juices get flowing!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's my sisters' birthdays today. Must be an auspicious day, since I wrote half the chapter this afternoon.

The forest standing before Robbie somehow seemed bigger than he remembered.

Then again, last time he could remember setting foot inside it, he'd been about five years old, and the nighttime darkness had allowed him to ignore all but the closest trees to the path. Now, under the light of the rising sun, the trees were entirely too visible for his liking. His only comfort for the moment was the knowledge that these trees didn't belong to the Court forest, and that each autumnal leaf that fell off a branch towards him wasn't a deliberate attack.

Robbie shifted uneasily in the grass as he watched the trees. The field just before the forest was yellowing and bristly, almost completely dead, but still tall enough to hug his calves and get tangled in his bootlaces. Adding to that discomfort was the shoulder strap of his messenger bag, as it chafed against his left wing. Robbie was doing everything in his power to not pay attention to either source of irritation.

He kept his attention on a flattened part of the field, which led straight from the town's edge to the forest, ending at a splintered log. Loftskip was perched on top of the log, examining the spots where moss had been scraped off, and looking into the shadowed trees. They'd only arrived at the forest a few minutes ago, but Robbie felt like they'd been standing around doing nothing for at least an hour.

Sportacus stood a bit off to his side, adjusting his backpack straps. Every so often, he glanced up at the trees, then immediately averted his gaze. Robbie slowly shuffled closer to the elf and elbowed him gently in the side. "The trees _really_ didn't try to hurt you when you went in there?" he asked under his breath.

Shaking his head, Sportacus whispered back, "I went up to a fairy ring and everything, they just... seemed tired."

Robbie inhaled sharply, then exhaled slowly, straightening up and giving the forest a narrow-eyed look. "They better stay that way," he muttered, giving another few shaky breaths as he tried to steel his nerves. Biting his lip, he looked over at Loftskip and called out, "Is this - this is from them, right?"

Up on the log, Loftskip stood up and nodded. "Yes, I think it is. There are large claw punctures in the wood." Giving the trees one last look, she said, "The trail doesn't go far, at least from what I can see. They could have gone any direction."

Robbie wilted. "So... the plan stays the same."

"For the time being, yes," Ana said, giving Robbie a look full of mixed emotions he couldn't quite identify. "Be careful by the river, Robbie."

"We will," he said, averting his gaze and staring at the ground. "You be careful, too."

Sportacus tugged on his backpack straps and walked up around Robbie's side. "I think we should send up green flares every hour," he suggested. "Just to keep track of each other. Or a red flare if we need help, of course."

"Keep your eyes open and stay clear of the traps, and you shouldn't need the red flares at all," Ana reminded. "Keep track of the time. It would be best if we could meet back here at dusk, but if you are unable to make it this far, just get out of the forest however possible."

Robbie nodded along slowly, trying not to look too closely at his mother's face. He did his best to pretend that she wasn't clenching her jaw, or that her eyes weren't just a little bit golden, but for all his efforts he still noticed. His stomach twisted, and looking up at the trees didn't make things any better. If he hadn't felt Sportacus's calloused fingers slip into his palm and squeeze reassuringly, he might've frozen up on the edge of the forest and stayed that way until someone forcibly pried him free.

Sportacus let go of his hand after a moment, but it was enough.

At some point after that, Robbie heard Sportacus say "Good luck" to Ana and Loftskip. The next couple minutes blurred together as his reflexes steered his feet towards the nearest worn-down path. The bright blue on the drawstring of Sportacus's hoodie and the edges of his gauntlets was the only color that Robbie's eyes could see for a little while; everything else turned into one immense dark smudge. The tree trunks around him seemed indistinguishable from one another, wrapping around him on all sides, creaking softly with every gust of wind. Something rang in his ears - probably his wards, taking notice of just how close Robbie was to stepping foot inside the Court forest again.

The one time Robbie spotted a leaf falling in his peripheral vision, his heart rate spiked so sharply that he found himself short of breath for the next two minutes. He'd hoped Sportacus wouldn't notice, but he shortly heard a faint beeping from the general direction of the elf, and felt a hand come to rest upon his shoulder. The hand trailed down to the center of his back and began kneading Robbie's taught muscles in small circles. His wings went limp, and he came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the winding path, breaths shallow.

Sportacus waited by his side and didn't stop rubbing his back. The longer they stood on the path - Sportacus's body heat slowly seeping through the air and cocooning Robbie - the less Robbie could feel the presence of the trees, like concrete slowly pouring around him and squeezing his magic out of existence. Eventually he could even make out each individual tree, and the forest didn't seem as much like a singular creature that had just swallowed him. It just seemed like it should - a forest, slightly tainted with what remained of strange fairies, nothing more, nothing less.

Slowly, Robbie dragged his hands through his hair. "We're not even _in_ the real forest yet, are we?" he croaked.

"Not yet, but it's okay," Sportacus said. "Take your time."

Robbie's fingers curled in his bangs. "No, no-" He drew in a deep breath, and called up his wards, reworking them around him so they felt a bit sturdier. On the edge of his vision he saw a blue spark drift over his shoulder where Sportacus's arm touched him, and the warmth from the elf's hand stayed even after he pulled it away. Robbie wasn't sure if he imagined it or not, but the effect was the same. He straightened up and said firmly, "I'm good. I'll be good. Let's keep moving."

Sportacus offered a smile. "If the trees didn't want to hurt _me_ , I definitely doubt they'll want to hurt _you_."

"I _know_ ," Robbie breathed, voice strained. Balling his fists at his sides, he took two more deep breaths, air whistling between his clenched teeth on the exhale. "I might - I might not be able to move," he forced out. "If, you know - if the trees decide they don't like me - if I freeze up, will you-?"

"Yes," Sportacus answered. "I will."

Robbie's heart pounded. At the same time his whole body felt flushed and clammy, while a numb cold crawled up and down his spine. His wards did the best they could do reassure him - _we are here, strong, safe_ \- but he couldn't quite bring himself to believe them.

Not yet. If, once he stepped into the true forest, they held - _then_ , he might feel safe enough to keep going.

He wasn't sure what it was about the forest that changed first; probably the color of the lichens on the trees, as they turned from deep green to pale orange and white. The ferns flanking the path got taller, the moss on the ground thicker, and the roots of the trees began to jut sharply out of the ground, like snakes poised to strike. The dirt path curved left, and looked to continue straight onward, never quite turning back into the deeper forest.

At the bend in the path, Sportacus stopped. The moment he did, Robbie's wards crawled up his shoulders and coiled around his neck, sitting just underneath his jaw and buzzing faintly. The nape of his neck and insides of his wrists began to burn, and his mouth went dry. All he could see were the _roots_ around him, jagged and overgrown with moss, split and cracked and motionless.

 _Still_ , his wards murmured, _still_.

They held.

Robbie licked the roof of his mouth slowly, glancing over to Sportacus, who looked at him with a furrowed brow. "...they're not," he stammered, "they're not moving."

Sportacus's lip twitched, and he shook his head. "No, they don't move much. They talk, I know they can talk..."

Robbie snorted. "Right, right... you did tell me that, didn't you?"

"I didn't think you really believed me."

"No, I believed you..." Robbie brushed his bangs back, noting how sweat-stained they were even after only a few minutes in the forest. "I didn't _like_ it, but I knew you weren't lying."

"Well, if you didn't like _that_ , you probably won't like this," Sportacus sighed, pointing away from the path into the forest. "The path doesn't go any farther into the trees. There's a clearing that way, and I think it might open up a bit after that." He made a noise in his throat that sounded like a nervous growl. "But there's a fairy ring in the way. Right through those trees, I can see it from here."

" _Already??"_ Robbie squawked. "Are you kidding?" Leaning over Sportacus, he glared through the gap between the trees at a patch of open mossy ground, slightly brighter than the forest around it thanks to a few rays of sunlight coming through the canopy. Sure enough, sitting in the middle of the clearing was a circle of white bonnet mushrooms, barely visible in the light. Robbie cleared his throat slowly. "Can't - can't we find another way?"

Sportacus shrugged. "Maybe. I'm just not sure where the next clearing is, and we probably shouldn't go through the denser trees..."

Groaning, Robbie pinched his lips and shook his head. "No, never mind." Gripping the strap of his messenger bag, he rummaged around in one of the pockets, pulling out his folded map. "Come on, the sooner we get past it the better."

"Are you sure?" Sportacus asked.

" _Hell_ no," Robbie scoffed, pinching his lips and taking a wary step off the path. His wings tensed as soon as his foot hit moss instead of dirt, but his wards stayed calm, and nothing came lunging out of the forest at his face. The next few steps were a bit easier, thanks in part to the stability of his wards, but mostly to the fact that Sportacus kept pace beside him as they walked up to the fairy ring.

Up close, the tiny bonnet mushrooms were much easier to see. Robbie could make out the flecks of brown at their domes, and the almost invisible slivers of iridescence that lined their gills. Bright clouds of dust drifted in the air around the ring, just a few feet above the ground. Robbie hovered about two feet away from the ring, scowling in its general direction as he unfolded the map and scrutinized the notes taking up the top left hand corner of the paper.

"Which way do we go around a ring?" Sportacus wondered aloud, trying to get a look at the map over Robbie's arm.

Robbie squinted at his smeared handwriting. "Uh, clockwise." Looking up from the map, he took a tentative step to the left, keeping a distrustful eye on the ring as he slowly circled it. Sportacus stayed put until Robbie had made it all the way to the other side, and they both waited a minute just to see if the ring would somehow react to their presence.

When nothing happened, Sportacus circled to join Robbie. He touched Robbie's shoulder gently and asked, "Your wards are holding?"

Robbie gave a weak smile. "Yeah... yeah, they're fine." Craning his neck back and staring up at the canopy, he shielded his eyes against the sunlight. On all sides, ferns and brackish bushes and huge trees with gnarled roots surrounded him, but they stayed where they were, and left him alone. Folding the map back up, he tucked it into his messenger bag, adjusted the strap, and exhaled firmly. "Okay. Guess we should actually start looking for them, now."

Sportacus grinned encouragingly. "To the river?"

Robbie bit the inside of his lip, and nodded. "To the river."

 

* * *

 

Ana's eyes trailed after Robbie as he disappeared down the path, side by side with the elf, his wings pinned tight against his back and arms stiff. Her gaze lingered on the trees even after she couldn't see him anymore, and her jaw ached from keeping it so tightly clenched. The forest itself, weakened as it was, wouldn't pose a threat to her son, but since yesterday evening she'd had the twisting feeling in her gut that Robbie didn't quite believe that.

She distantly remembering Robbie waking up crying from nightmares of tree roots pulling him under his bed. 

The mind could play strange tricks, sometimes. See danger that wasn't there, and strain one's magic in order to retaliate. Oddly enough, Ana found herself hoping that the elf would have the sense to talk Robbie out of it if he happened to dig himself too deep into the placebo.

Her jaw tightened again, at the memory of her son standing close to the elf, and not looking her in the eye. Exhaling slowly, Ana forced herself to look away from the path and climbed up over the splintered log. "Let's go," she said to Loftskip, tone clipped.

The golem dropped down beside her, keeping pace through the ferns. Ana skirted the largest tree roots out of habit, despite knowing these ones had no magic in them. Rays of sunlight streamed down through the canopy, framing the crushed undergrowth and gouges in the dirt that led away from the field. The tracks carried on in a straight line, sometimes jutting out to the side around old moss-covered stumps and dips in the ground. Ana and Loftskip followed the trail of the creature as far as they could, until the ferns became larger in size, and the moss a different color.

Where the shadows deepened around every tree, and the canopy thickened, the trail vanished. The ground itself seemed to swallow the tracks, losing the imprints of heavy claws in the moss and mulch.

Ana stepped across another fallen tree, riddled with white lichen, and froze stiff.

The trees around her creaked.

A foreign mix of smells - mint, chlorine, and cold, cold iron - wafted into her nose for a half second, before being stolen away on the breeze.

 

* * *

 

Loftskip made it three more paces into the forest before she noticed Ana had stopped. Stepping up onto a small exposed rock, she turned back and cocked her head at the woman, finding her statue-stiff with the ferns around her. Ana's eyes were trained on the canopy, her brow furrowed and her lips slightly parted. Loftskip watched and waited for Ana to say something, but after a half a minute of silence, she warily asked, "Ana? What's wrong?"

Ana's eyes narrowed, still fixated on the trees. Her fingers twitched at her sides as she slowly murmured, "I'm... not sure." She gestured in a wide arc at the trees, a deep frown settling over her features. "There's - I don't know, there's  _something._ The trees are supposed to-" Cutting herself off sharply, Ana raised both her arms and slipped her backpack off her shoulders. A moment later, two thin spirals of gold manifested from her wrists. The spirals climbed her arms, and the fabric of her sweater shifted as if caught in a strong wind, twisting and unraveling as Ana's magic worked its way over her entire torso. Ana turned in place, sweeping her gaze over the surrounding trees, and for a heartbeat Loftskip saw the yarn of her sweater pull away from her back, exposing her shoulder blades.

The pale skin was mottled with freckles that seemed to form their own star chart on Ana's skin. Loftskip almost found a constellation upon Ana's ribs, but she was distracted by the sight of dark red scars mirrored on either side of Ana's spine. All of a sudden, a vise-like pressure gripped Loftskip's crystal, and she quickly averted her gaze, trying not to think of the familiar claws that dealt the old wounds.

She only glanced back in Ana's direction once the golden glow began to fade. She looked just in time to see Ana's sweater knit itself into a different shape altogether, more akin to a tunic. Two broad flares of fabric hung down around Ana's thighs, and in the place of cable-knit embellishments, the garment was completely smooth, even lacking seams as far as Loftskip could tell. A loose collar hid Ana's lower jaw, and when she moved her hands Loftskip noticed that her thumb now stuck through a hole in the sleeve, and the fabric over her palm now possessed a series of embroidered golden spirals.

Ana dropped her arms to her sides, staring up at the trees in bewilderment. "You see? The trees should've treated that as a threat. I  _know_ their power is still here, I can feel it, they just aren't... _why_ aren't they reacting?"

"You're a weaver," Loftskip said quietly, barely hearing what Ana had said. All she could see were the faint gold threads in her tunic, the concentrated wards - the armor stronger than steel or stone. 

A strange look crossed Ana's face. "You - I thought you already knew that." She crossed her arms over her chest and side-eyed Loftskip. "In the crystal, you said... you said I was Queenscourt. That I'd killed my own Courts. I assumed you knew what you were talking about."

Loftskip managed to avoid staring at the ground, despite the intense urge to look anywhere _but_ Ana's narrowed gaze. "That was... that was just talk. Empty, angry words. I didn't realize..." A shudder passed over her, a tightening of her form as her wards attempted to structure themselves more sturdily in the fabric and steel. "Your magic came back so quickly. Is this why?"

"Yes," Ana said simply, turning her attention back to the trees. "And the trees should've known that, too. They don't just - a forest doesn't just stay inert when a weaver arrives. It shifts. It moves away to keep itself safe."

"Perhaps they are even weaker than we expected," Loftskip pointed out.

Ana scowled. "Maybe." Picking her backpack off the ground, she walked up and gave Loftskip a grim look. "Either way, we should keep on the move."

Loftskip nodded in agreement, lingering behind Ana for a moment as the woman continued to forge her way through the ferns. If she tilted her head just right, a faint mirage appeared around Ana, like a second silhouette, making it difficult to see just where her physical form began and how far her aura stretched around her. The yellow threads in her tunic glistened like the sunlight overhead, and scattered throughout the fabric, even harder to see, were tiny pinpricks of white.

With every shift of the tunic as Ana walked, the tiny white dots faded in and out of view, like stars pulled out of the sky.

Loftskip didn't wait for Ana to notice her hesitation before she jogged to catch up to her. While it took a few minutes, she was eventually able to return her focus to the potential threats in the forest around her, instead of the ghostly golden threads and harsh histories upon the woman walking by her side.

 

* * *

 

A short distance across the forest, just beyond a bend in the path, the moss slowly sprang back around the shallow footprints that had been left behind at the fairy ring only a few minutes ago. A handful of small beetles and aphids scattered from the ring, disappearing into the layers of moss as the dust cloud above the ground began to descend. It collected densely around the ring, and a bright flash of iridescence lit the underside of each mushroom.

One by one, the ivory caps of the bonnets flared out, and the dust settled inside the creases of the gills. With a faint  _pop,_ the largest of the bonnets twisted on its stalk, and like a thin sheet of tissue paper, the outer shell of the cap peeled away. Its iridescent shine was all but lost in the sunlight, and the mushroom withered to a blackened husk.

In its place, a swallowtail butterfly flapped lazily above the ring, trailing faint iridescence with every movement of its wings.

On the opposite side of the ring, a second bonnet shriveled. The rest followed rapidly, until the whole ring had transformed into a drifting collection of tortoiseshells and swallowtails, pearl-bordered fritillaries and wood whites and tiny purple hairstreaks. They fluttered aimlessly in the air, testing wings that had lain dormant for years, until half the butterflies split away and flew after the footprints still visible in the moss.

The other half turned towards the deeper forest and vanished between the trees, leaving only an empty fairy ring behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR TERRIBLE HANDWRITING ROBBIE


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy. Long chapter.
> 
> Side note: my mom is reading this and is very cross with me about how I'm treating the characters.
> 
> Sorry, mom.

"See anything?"

Sportacus crouched at the top end of a huge fallen oak, doing his best to avoid touching any of the moss still clinging to its trunks. Bare of leaves and stripped of its bark in certain places, the bulk of the tree was still supported by the surrounding forest, creaking faintly. It provided a fifteen foot high vantage point that Sportacus had scaled the moment he and Robbie made sure the tree was dead and powerless. 

From the tree, Sportacus had a clear view of the landscape for at least another couple of miles. While he couldn't see any trace of the movement of a large creature, he did spot a break in the treeline, and a stretch of open meadow where the forest opened up. With a bit of squinted concentration, he zeroed in on a long, curved tract of earth that dipped at the edges, and was so overgrown at the sides that he could only just barely pick out the glint of light reflecting on the surface.

Farther beyond that glint, the trees seemed darker, pressed together like a singular wall of wood. The back of Sportacus's neck prickled, ice cold, at the sight. It took him a full minute to pry his eyes away. 

Clutching a branch, Sportacus leaned halfway over the side of the trunk and called down, "No sign of them, but I think we're getting close to the river!"

Down on the ground, hunched beside a cluster of ferns taller than himself, Robbie scowled up in Sportacus's direction. "Could you maybe  _not_ tempt fate by using the tree as your personal gymnasium?" 

Sportacus shrugged. He let go of the branch and tipped forward, toes digging into the bark and pinning him in place. "Didn't you say the tree was dead, though? I don't think it'll mind much."

"Doesn't mean the other trees aren't watching," Robbie muttered, so lowly that Sportacus almost couldn't hear him. "Just come down already, these ferns are getting a bit too nosy. They keep looking at my wings, and don't tell me they aren't, I  _know_ they are." 

Allowing himself one last good look at the landscape, Sportacus let go of the tree and pushed himself away from it as he fell. Hitting the soft ground in a roll, he jumped to his feet in front of a very disgruntled-looking Robbie, who was engaged in a staring contest with the ferns. His wings were flat to his back, twitching rapidly every few seconds, but they were more relaxed than they had been when Robbie had first entered the forest. Sportacus hadn't seen them tense up into a sharp V in a few hours. 

"You see??" Robbie snapped, pointing at the shriveled fiddleheads. "They're going to uncurl and try and grab me the second I turn around, I can tell." Not taking his eyes off the ferns, he tossed Sportacus the backpack he'd left behind on the ground and said, "You distract them. Give me time to flee."

Sportacus blinked. "I... don't think they're going to chase you, Robbie."

Robbie sniffed. "You don't know that." Cocking his head to the side, he scrutinized the ferns for another half a minute, and Sportacus waited patiently and tightened his backpack straps until Robbie finally leaned back and folded his arms. "Okay, these ones  _might_ be inert."

The edge of Sportacus's mouth tugged upwards. "You  _do_  remember that my crystal can sense danger, right?" he pointed out, tapping the casing on his vest. So far the crystal had remained silent, only growing cold once they'd entered the forest, leaving a brittleness under Sportacus's skin. It wasn't the most comfortable feeling, but it kept him on his toes; between the crystal and his wards, he was constantly aware of the forest around him, and it'd lain dormant since dawn. 

Robbie shrugged. "Just because it hasn't gone off yet doesn't mean we should let our guards down. I'm assuming everything is evil until proven otherwise." Scratching the inside of his wrist, Robbie gave the ferns one last sour look and turned around, skirting the trees and undergrowth and doing an impressive job of keeping out of the way of low-hanging branches. He got a few paces before he glanced back at Sportacus and asked, "Which way did you see the river?"

"West," Sportacus answered, jogging to catch up to Robbie. "It keeps going towards the mountains, but it hits the forest just a couple miles from here, I think." 

"Oh, only  _that?_ A couple  _more_ miles?" Robbie groaned. "Seriously, how far could they have gone? Without leaving  _any_ trail?"

"The forest turns to meadow around the river," Sportacus said. "If they came this way we should be able to spot their tracks." Tugging on the strings of his hoodie, he kept pace beside Robbie, trying to take the most direct route towards the meadows he'd seen. Ever since he and Robbie had left the path, the undergrowth had gotten thicker, ferns squashed together so densely that Sportacus couldn't even push his way through them. The ground, too, was slowly becoming less earthen, and more a heavy mat of pine needles, at least an inch thick, laying across exposed tree roots.

Doing his best to keep to the patches of forest where sunlight ebbed through the canopy - coating the ground in strangely geometric patterns of light - Sportacus led Robbie towards the river. For the most part, they traveled in silence, Sportacus keeping his ears trained on their surroundings and Robbie watching the forest with wide eyes. Sportacus kept the barest minimum of his attention on his crystal, and to an extent on Robbie's breathing as well. For the most part, it remained steady, if not exactly  _calm._

Sportacus took to counting the minutes between each time Robbie warned, "Warded tree." In the first couple hours since they'd crossed into the forest, they'd managed to go fifteen, twenty minutes without Robbie spotted a particularly large tree, encrusted with lichens and moss, and magic that Sportacus could only see if he looked at the tree in the corner of his eye. Robbie could spot these trees almost as soon as they came into view, and took it upon himself to keep watch for them while Sportacus did his best to navigate the forest. 

This time, not five minutes passed before Robbie flinched closer to Sportacus, giving a bent pine a wide berth. A sharp breath escaped from between his teeth, and he came to a sudden halt, grabbing Sportacus's arm. "That - that one's brighter," he said in a strained voice.

Tilting his head, Sportacus dipped into his aura sense. On the very edge of his peripheral vision, the upper branches of the tree flared almost neon red. The corona crackled around the tree for at least a foot, seeping out from between each piece of bark. The aura was so well entwined with the tree that the second Sportacus turned his head to try and get a clearer look, it vanished, blown to pieces like smoke. If either he or Robbie had walked into the aura... to be honest, Sportacus wasn't sure  _what_ would happen, but he imagined he'd be happier not knowing.

Robbie shifted on his feet, tugging Sportacus away from the tree. "It's sharp," he said under his breath. 

"Sharp? What do you mean?" Sportacus asked quietly as the tree faded from view, lost in the ferns and shadows. 

"I don't  _know,"_ Robbie hissed. "All the wards I've ever seen are - they're  _heavy,_ and they feel like sandpaper and - they're supposed to keep things  _out,_ that's the whole point. That one's full of holes, and it's - it's bright. I couldn't see where all the gaps were."His wings fluttered fast enough to stir up a breeze for a heartbeat before they settled, and Robbie shivered. "Just keep moving."

Nodding slowly, Sportacus reached behind himself into his backpack, feeling around for the flare gun. "Do you think we should-?"

"No, it's fine. Just send a green one."

"Okay."

The sound of the flare bursting echoed across the forest like a gunshot.

In the distance, a cluster of crows took flight with a raucous series of caws, and the rest of the forest stayed still.

 

* * *

 

Ana's lungs tightened when she heard the sound of the flare, and she only relaxed when she saw the green smoke painted against the morning cloud cover. The noise startled a nearby flock of crows, and for a brief moment the trees around Ana seemed to tighten, pulling their branches and roots closer until the crows had disappeared. The silence they left behind clung to Ana's skin like a heavy fog, wrapping around her windpipe and her brain.

Loftskip's voice seemed to come from underwater, and a half mile away, as she asked, "Green?"

The sound of the golem's voice dispelled the fog on Ana's mind like a flame burning through gasoline. "...Green," she replied, staring at the sky until she couldn't see the smoke anymore. Once it was gone, she plucked her own gun out of the bag and sent off a flare in response. Another  _pop_ left a ringing in Ana's ears, and she did her best not to stare too for too long at the second plume of green smoke.

"Still no luck on their end," she heard Loftskip murmur. "But at least they're still safe." 

Ana did her best to hide the sudden clenching of her fist from the golem. "Yes. Safe." She turned away from the clearing, and the dappled sunlight burned on her neck as she strode past Loftskip into the shadows of the trees. The walls of ferns shied away from her golden aura when she came near; they didn't afford Loftskip the same courtesy, and the golem had to sprint quickly to catch up to Ana before the ferns became impassable. 

They walked in relative silence for another five minutes; Ana only spoke once to warn of a glimmering snare tree off to their left, and Loftskip quietly pointed out a large hole between a thick knot of roots. Ana's ears still rang from the sound of the flares, and her grip tightened on the strap of her bag with each passing minute, until her knuckles were white with tension. The coiled pressure in her lungs took up a roost behind her teeth, and it was all she could do to bite her tongue and keep her focus where it needed to be. 

Ana realized the futility of biting her tongue when she tasted blood.

Still walking, and keeping her eyes on the forest, she asked, "Robbie feels safe with your elf, doesn't he?"

In the corner of her eye, she saw Loftskip nearly stumble. The golem's gaze snapped towards Ana for a brief moment, and then slowly returned to the trees. Loftskip shifted her backpack, and replied in a more emotionless tone than normal, "I suppose he does, yes." 

Ana's eye twitched. "Good," she forced out. "And he trusts you, too." The palms of her hands burned. "It's good that he has two people he can trust in this world. Most fae would be lucky to have even one."

Loftskip came to an abrupt halt. "Ana-"

"Keep walking," Ana said, feeling pins and needles in her throat. "We should be getting close to the boulders soon."

She waited for Loftskip to try and speak again, but this time the golem stayed silent. The uncomfortable tightness in Ana's jaw muscles slowly spread to the rest of her body as she kept walking, every step making her feel like she was weighed down by sandbags. The feeling worsened every time she happened to glance over at Loftskip.

Eventually she stopped looking at Loftskip altogether, and let her wards keep an eye on the golem instead.

Her attention remained fixed on the forest; the roots coating the ground like a massive woven tapestry, and the branches that slowly began to block out the sky.

 

* * *

 

The moment they entered the meadows, Robbie let out a squawk and shielded his eyes from the sun. "Ow.  _Ow._ Why is the sun so bright? Does it seem brighter than it should be? I think it's brighter than it should be."

"I think your eyes just got used to the forest," Sportacus replied, squinting at the open swath of tall grasses, wildflowers, and the occasional stubby tree. Truth be told, there seemed to be a strange scattering of light in the meadow, reflecting the sun overhead in sparkling clusters. Slowly approaching the nearest bright spot, Sportacus craned his neck up and spotted a small rock in the grass, coated in flecks of mica that glittered in the sunlight. The entire field was populated by similar rocks, making the sunlight seem a little bit more intense. 

While it didn't seem particularly harmful at the moment, it  _did_ make it difficult for Sportacus to see where the river might be. There was no sound of running water, and the grasses obscured any slope that could indicate the river. He knew it was somewhere near the middle of the large expanse of meadow, but it could curve out or in, or widen in places... his hand searched to his left, finding Robbie's arm. "Watch where you step," he warned.

"I know," Robbie said, blinking and sweeping his gaze over the meadow. A breeze kicked up, stirring the grass and sending clouds of pollen into the air. Immediately Robbie's nose wrinkled; his sneeze was nearly deafening. "Oh, fuck you too, meadow," he sniffed. "Trust me, I don't like me being here  _either_." 

Sportacus stifled a snort of laughter as he branched away from Robbie, examining the places in the meadow were the grass seemed sparser, hoping to find a set of tracks. So far, he hadn't so much as glimpsed normal animal tracks, like deer, coyotes, or rabbits. With the exception of the crows, he hadn't seen or heard any sign of animal life in the entire forest. No songbirds, no cicadas or bees... and no butterflies. 

Leaning around a particularly large tussock, Sportacus pushed the grass to the side, trying to get a look at the bare dirt on the other side, where some other grasses seemed to be crushed. As he did so, he felt a shiver run down his chest, like someone had dropped an ice cube down the front of his shirt. He recoiled from the tussock, and the moment he yanked his hand back he felt something slice through the underside of his fingers.

Sportacus let out a sharp yelp, pulling his hand to his chest. A few small smears of blood were left behind on the grass, and Sportacus bit down a hiss at the twinging pain in his hand. A moment of panic surged through his head, wondering why his wards hadn't acted, but as he took a hasty step away from the grasses and gave them a closer look, he realized that his wards hadn't protected him because they'd sensed no aggressive magic.

Instead, the grass in the tussocks was just sharp - sharp enough to pierce the skin, but not deeper.

_Stupid,_ Sportacus chastised himself. Lifting his head, he looked over to Robbie, who had moved towards the other half of the field, examining the rocks. "Robbie!" he shouted. "Be careful! I think this might be sword grass!" 

Robbie's head whipped around towards Sportacus. "It's  _what_ now??"

He held up his hand, not sure if Robbie could even see the cuts at this distance. "The grass is  _sharp_ , Robbie! Your wards won't protect you, just don't touch the grass with bare skin!"

"Bare skin-" Robbie sputtered, straightening up. His wings flared up at his sides, and even from twenty feet away Sportacus could recognize Robbie's scowl. "How did you - are you hurt??"

"Robbie, I'm fine, it barely broke the skin," Sportacus tried to reassure, but it seemed Robbie wasn't hearing it. He took off in a run towards Sportacus, veering to the side to avoid a waist-high tussock. Sportacus was about to try and call for Robbie to calm down when he saw Robbie stop short, left leg twisting at an odd angle. Robbie's eyes went wide, wings and arms pinwheeling desperately as he tried to regain his footing.

Sportacus felt the blood rush from his face as Robbie pitched to the side, his foot caught in the grass. 

Only when Robbie sliding downwards - like the earth itself was swallowing him - did Sportacus realize that Robbie had tripped at the edge of a slope.

_"Robbie!"_

His crystal screeched, flashing purple, and his mind spilled over with images of stagnant blue water. 

Sportacus's legs exploded into motion instinctively, straining to reach Robbie before he slipped all the way over the embankment. The sharp blades of grass bit into his arms as he dove forward, sliding on his knees and scrambling to grab onto Robbie's arm. His vision went blurry, blood roaring in his ears, and he only really registered the panic on Robbie's face.

With a single heaving motion, he pulled Robbie away from the slope and collapsed backwards. Robbie fell on top of him with a groan, and Sportacus realized that his arms had found their way around Robbie's back, pinning him in place and ensuring that he wouldn't slip again. He could feel his heartbeat in every inch of his face, lips and fingers numb as the adrenaline faded, and his breath slowly went back to normal.

"Robbie," Sportacus gasped, sitting up and frantically checking Robbie for injury. "Are you - you could've - your leg, is your leg hurt?? Robbie, if you'd fallen in-"

Sportacus's words of worry seemed to meet deaf ears, and his panic started coming back, wondering if the river had somehow affected Robbie even if he hadn't fallen in all the way. "Robbie, are you okay??"

Robbie made a noise that almost sounded like a reply, but he clamped his mouth shut before Sportacus could hear it. He slowly shifted on his knees, turning and looking back at the slight rise that obscured the riverbank. Sportacus reached out and clutched his hand anxiously, trying to get Robbie's attention. "Robbie, please talk to me, are you okay? Did the river-"

"There's nothing there," Robbie said suddenly.

Sportacus's heart skipped a beat. "...what?"

Robbie staggered to his feet, tugging Sportacus up off the ground with him. His wings were tense and twitching as he stepped closer to the rise, and a strangled sound came out of Sportacus's throat. Robbie ignored him and stepped up the rise, chin dropped to his chest as he stared at the ground to his left and his right. After a minute, he dazedly looked back at Sportacus, brow furrowed and mouth hanging halfway open. 

"The river," Robbie whispered. "It's - it's not there." 

Sportacus was on his feet in seconds. "What?? What are you talking about, how can it-" The moment he reached Robbie's side, he stopped dead in his tracks as if he'd run straight into a wall. The words choked off in his throat as he stared down in shock, eyes struggling to absorb the sight before him.

"You see what I mean?" Robbie said hollowly.

All Sportacus could do was nod. Words failed him completely.

Dark mud, dying cattails, and a dusting of mica was all that had been left behind.

The river - as far up and down the run as Sportacus could see - was gone.

 

* * *

 

It was a tortoiseshell that reached the crater first.

Not far behind, the swallowtails and hairstreaks scouted the edges of the slope, testing the trees for any sign of the power they remembered, the power that meant  _home._ The fritillaries took to the sky, vanishing among the leaves in the canopy. Only a handful of wood whites escorted the tortoiseshell, drifting between beams of sunlight just a few feet above the ground.

The procession jumped from root to root, dancing between the broad ferns that grew from the dark trenches. They followed the cracks of sunlight until they reached the bottom of the crater, where the ground turned to a bed of brown pine needles, and the air glittered with bright dust. Each towering tree was surrounded by its own huge thicket, and the paths between were narrow, only opening up in a vast circle around the largest tree of them all.

The tortoiseshell fluttered up to the hollow, antennae twitching as it sensed the potent reek of a dead and rotting animal.

This was home. The power was there, as it should be.

The tortoiseshell landed atop a heavily bruised eyelid, tapping its six feet. Two wheezing breaths sounded in unison, shifting beneath the butterfly and splintering the vines that had slowly come to mold around the dark shape occupying the hollow. Eventually the wood whites came to join, each taking a spot on top of the slowly breathing mass. There was almost nowhere for them to land that was skin - everything else was moss and bark, or the vines and roots that grew from the hollow.

_Tap, tap._

Beneath the tortoiseshell, the eye opened, revealing bloodshot sclera and a pupil so dilated it nearly blotted out the iris.

The tortoiseshell flapped its wings again, brushing its feelers over the bruised skin around the eye. A weak hiss echoed inside the hollow, and the whole mass beneath the butterflies trembled. Eventually the rest of the swarm arrived, all coming to rest on the behemoth creature's body, picking at the dead and dying skin. With each wingbeat, the dust in the hollow stirred, settling around the creature in the hollow.

All the energies in the creature - deep blue and bloody crimson - were just like the forest had felt when they woke, strange and unfamiliar. Still, it made little difference to the butterflies. The hollow was the hollow, as it had always been, and it was the only thing that mattered.

_Tap, tap._

With each grazing touch from the tortoiseshell, the dust gathered on the creature's bleary eye, forming an iridescent film.

The creature groaned hoarsely, and the faint smell of sun-baked mud and blood on blades of grass filled the hollow.

 

* * *

 

"You're  _sure?"_ Sportacus asked warily, leaning over the embankment and squinting at the riverbed. In his peripheral vision, he watched Robbie pace up and down the river, his arms stretched out and fingers splayed. 

After a few minutes, Robbie nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. It's not glamoured, it's just-"

"Gone," Sportacus finished, crouching at the top of the slope. 

Robbie walked up to his side, bracing his hands on his knees and frowning at the empty river. "Thanks for saving me, I guess?" he said, attempting to crack a grin and ending up with more of a grimace. 

Sportacus managed a short breath of a laugh. He rubbed his thumb over the cuts on the insides of his fingers - the tingling pain had all but entirely faded, replaced by a soreness that took up only a tiny smidgen of his attention. The bleeding had stopped several minutes ago, and Robbie seemed to have entirely forgotten about it, not that Sportacus blamed him. He couldn't think about much other than the sight in front of them, either.

"I saw one of those fallen trees Mom was talking about," Robbie said, gesturing down the river. "Right on the next bend. Same thing, no glamours. No glamours  _anywhere_." Folding his arms over his chest, Robbie looked across the riverbed at the opposite slope. "Do you think it's safe to cross?"

"Ana said the water was the only danger," Sportacus murmured. "I don't get it. If it dried up, the mud would've hardened, but look." Reaching down, he dug a handful of dirt out of the side of the slope, crumbling it between his fingers. "It's still damp."

"It  _was_ raining a bit last night," Robbie pointed out. "There's no glamours, no wards as far as I can tell... I don't know about you, but I know  _I'm_  not going to complain about having one less obstacle to deal with." 

Sportacus pursed his lips. "Good point." Still staring down at the riverbed, he almost didn't notice Robbie starting to step down the slope, and the moment he realized what Robbie was doing his heart lurched up into this throat. "Robbie! Robbie, wait-" He reached out and tugged the man back up over the bank, and while Robbie was giving him a questioning look, Sportacus said, "Let me go first. To make sure it's safe."

The left side of Robbie's face pinched in confusion. "Why you?"

"My reflexes are faster," Sportacus justified, trying to subdue the sharp twinges of cold that were prodding his chest right below his crystal. It was murmuring on the inside of his skull, showing him nothing useful and just reminding him of what he already knew. "Just in case."

Robbie let out a sigh. "Fine, but I'm telling you, the river's gone."

"I know, I trust you, I just - don't trust anything else." Leaving Robbie on the bank, Sportacus slowly eased his way down onto the slope, heels sinking into the soft dirt as he carefully skidded down to the riverbed. At its deepest point, Sportacus assumed he wouldn't have been able to touch bottom and keep his head above water, had the river actually been there. The run was about twenty-five, maybe thirty feet wide, and didn't look to get any narrower nearby.

Glancing down at his feet, he found that while the very top layer of mud cracked a bit, everything below it was still soft, and his shoes sank in about half an inch. It didn't restrict his movement enough to be a real hindrance, but there was a faint sucking noise every time he lifted one of his feet. The mica in the riverbed glittered in the sunlight, and Sportacus gathered that the shine must have been what he'd seen from the tree.

He waited for a minute, taking a few experimental steps, before he motioned for Robbie to follow him down. Robbie didn't descend with the same grace as Sportacus, but he got down all the same, doing his best to keep his wings out of the dirt. His nose scrunched as he started to wipe his hands off on his jeans, and he gave his fingers a brief sniff. "Ew. Why does it smell weird?"

Sportacus inhaled deeply. All he could smell was warm earth. "I don't smell anything?" 

Robbie frowned. "I'm telling you, it smells like-" He sniffed again and coughed. "Ugh, it smells like compost. Seriously, how can you not-" Robbie suddenly let out a squawk, eyes bulging in his skull. "Sport, don't move. There's-" His eyes darted to Sportacus's shoulder, and he slowly pointed at the space by his head. "There's a butterfly. Right next to you." 

Sportacus's stomach twisted. As slowly as he could, he turned his head to the left, and sure enough, a white and black swallowtail the size of his hand was flapping silently above his shoulder. The moment his eyes locked onto it, it spun and drifted upwards. Sportacus's eyes followed it up, and his vision went blurry for a moment as he tried to see through the blinding sunlight.

When his eyes adjusted, he gasped sharply through his nose. "Robbie," he said slowly, "look up." 

Robbie craned his head back, and the color ran from his face. 

Circling ten feet above their heads was a column of butterflies - swallowtails, large tortoiseshells, and smaller butterflies, white and purple and tawny brown. They churned in a spiral, coiling through the air in dead silence, and it was almost impossible to make out each individual butterfly as the sun bounced off the scales of their wings. Sportacus thought the light might have been making it seem like there were more butterflies than there really were, but there were butterflies all the same, moving in a pattern that was in no way natural. 

The swarm vaguely maintained the shape of a spiral for a half-minute before the butterflies fanned out into a series of concentric circles. Sportacus could only stare as the butterflies formed a column again, then circles, then back to the column-

In and out. In and out.

It was almost hypnotic, until a dozen frigid knives jammed themselves in between Sportacus's ribs, with such force it nearly knocked the wind out of him.

_RUN,_ his crystal screeched in his ear,  _RUN-_

A low, droning rumble reached Sportacus's ears, and every hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He felt like he was moving through molasses as he turned and looked up the riverbed. At first, he couldn't see anything but the shaking of the trees at the forest's edge, and the wind kicking up and stirring the grass at the bend in the river. The rumble only got louder.

He recognized the sound first, before he even saw what it was.

"Robbie!!" Sportacus yelled. He didn't hear an answer, and when he looked, he found Robbie still staring up at the butterflies. Sportacus ran to him in a split second, snapping Robbie out of his daze as soon as he touched his shoulder. 

Robbie stiffened, head snapping from side to side. "What-"

The rumble turned to a roar, and Sportacus didn't have a chance to warn Robbie before the water came surging around the bend in the river. The frothing wall was blackened with rocks and branches, all covered in dirt and dead leaves. Sportacus's mind flashed with a vision of muscle torn from bone, skin and clothes scraped away by the impact of hundreds of sharp chunks of debris.

Branches cracked and split against the slope of the riverbed as the torrent pushed the debris wall forward.

The flash flood was a hundred feet away, and closing fast.

Sportacus and Robbie were right in its path. 

"Robbie,  _run!!"_ Sportacus screamed, pulling him towards the opposite bank. Robbie stood frozen for only a second before he let out a strangled cry and bolted, feet squelching in the mud. Sportacus half-dragged, half-shoved Robbie forward to the slope, only to realize in horror that the opposite bank was steeper than the last, and the mud far slicker. 

All around him Sportacus could hear the roar of the flood, and his crystal's shrieking.

The water was sixty feet away.

Fifty.

Robbie's wings beat the air, pummeling Sportacus's face as he tried to push Robbie up the slope. "I can't - fuck,  _fuck,_ I can't hold-"

Sportacus's claws burst out of his fingertips, and he dug them into the slope. He felt one claw break instantly, but he finally found a thicker root, and heaved himself halfway up the slope with one arm. With the other, he grabbed Robbie's collar, dragging him up far enough that Robbie could reach out and grab the grass at the top of the embankment. 

His arms burned, and he dared glance back at the debris wall.

Thirty feet. Twenty. The water crashed over the sides of the riverbed, flattening the grass.

" _Move,_ Robbie!!"

"I'm  _trying-"_

Sportacus grit his teeth and forced all his strength into his arm, catapulting Robbie forward. He let out a shriek as he was flung over the slope, tumbling head over heels into the grass. Robbie's head appeared a half-second later, wide scrape on the cheek and eyes panicked, and he reached both arms down to Sportacus. "Come on!! Come on!"

The entire right side of Sportacus's vision clouded over black as the debris wall reached him.

His hands found Robbie's, and his foot found a hold in the slope. Robbie pulled backwards with all his body weight, hauling Sportacus up and out of the riverbed. A log smacked into Sportacus's boot, shredding part of his jeans. A roiling sludgy mass poured down the run, water lapping over into the grass around Sportacus's feet, but no farther. His heartbeat thundered in his chest, almost louder than the flood. 

"What the  _fuck,"_ Robbie gasped out, leaning back on his hands and gaping at the river. "What the fuck was that??" 

Sportacus concentrated on his breath, trying to get it to even out even as he tried his best to silence the crystalline ringing in his head. "Flash flood," he said raggedly.

"Yes,  _obviously,"_ Robbie said, running both hands through his hair and getting mud stuck in his bangs. "But why - how-" He looked over his shoulder at the river with a dark scowl. "Fuck this forest," he said under his breath, before he craned his head back and glared at the sky. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted up, "And fuck you, you six-legged assholes!"

" _Robbie_ ," Sportacus breathed, head still pounding.

"What?? It's not like they can understand it!" His hands curled into fists. "I can't even  _see_ them anymore. I hope they got sucked up in the flood." Pressing his hands to either side of his nose, wings shaking, he hissed, "I hate this. I  _hate_ this fucking forest. What if _that's_ what happened to them??" With a scowl, Robbie gestured angrily at the dark water rushing in front of him. "What if they walked in just like we did and they couldn't get out in time and - and-"

Sportacus pressed his hand onto Robbie's thigh, trying to keep his voice calm - no small feat, considering he still felt like his head was going to explode. "There'd be more debris left over if the river flooded already," he reassured, but his tone didn't come out sounding too convincing. "And we'd see their tracks... I don't think they came this way, Robbie. They're probably somewhere else in the forest."

Robbie glanced over at Sportacus, his cheek scraped and reddened, hairline thick with mud, and lip trembling. Sportacus wasn't sure if the tremble was due to anger, fear, or exhaustion, or some combination of the three. Robbie slowly let out a series of controlled breaths, and his wings eventually relaxed, and his gaze dropped down to Sportacus's hand.

He narrowed his eyes. "You're bleeding."

Sportacus blinked. He'd entirely forgotten about his broken claw, and the cuts from the grass. Everything but his head felt numb. "Oh," he murmured.

Robbie sighed, fishing through his bag for a minute until he found a roll of thin bandages. The roaring flood was all Sportacus could hear while Robbie wrapped his hand, and he finally felt a painful twinge when Robbie peeled the completely twisted and broken claw away from Sportacus's left index finger. Robbie wrapped the bleeding finger as tightly as he could and muttered, "You don't happen to regrow those, do you?"

His head throbbed. "I don't - I don't think so." 

"Oh, great." Robbie shoved the gauze back and shot one last dirty look at the river before he stood up. "Well, at least we got to the other side before the flood got us." He looked down at Sportacus, one eyebrow raised. "You hurt anywhere else?"

Sportacus shook his head, not moving to get up. "No, I just... need a minute to catch my breath."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." Robbie rubbed the back of his hand over his chin, frowned at the mud, and gave up on cleaning up the rest. "Take a minute. Hell, take five." Robbie looked at the river again. The debris wall had filtered out somewhat, but the water was still clogged full of sticks and dirt. Sportacus heard him murmur, "What the hell," a few more times, his wings held up stiff.

Sportacus tucked his legs up to his chest and laid his head on his knees, waiting for the ringing in his ears to stop.

One minute turned to two, then three, and then five.

The ringing lessened only a little bit, and the ache at the back of his skull only got worse. Sportacus forced himself to ignore the black spots at the edge of his vision. If his crystal wanted to stay on high alert, then he would deal with it - the pain in his head, he could deal with, too. Even if every movement of his body made his muscles feel like lead. 

His chest still felt like a handful of frozen railroad spikes were being driven into his lungs, right beneath his crystal.

_Deal with it,_ he told himself,  _keep going._

_Keep going._

 

* * *

 

The landscape around the boulders seemed almost completely detached from the rest of the rest of the forest; Loftskip noticed the difference immediately. While she'd been able to hear at least some sign of life from the forest beforehand - creaking from the canopy, a dull insect drone in the gap of tree roots -  the boulders stood firm and utterly silent. The autumn trees around them, even the air itself, seemed to merge into a soft orange fog, draped around the stones like a petrified sunrise.

Loftskip wondered if the motionless scene would trap her inside of it, if she allowed herself to get distracted by the orange glow. The air seemed warmer, too, warm enough that even she could feel the difference. The humidity seeped into the fabric of her body, and flecks of golden dust clung to the metal sections of her corset and vambraces.

More so than she had at any other point in their journey, Loftskip felt like a trespasser. The boulders seemed ill fit a place for any living being to set foot.

Entirely the opposite of Loftskip, Ana didn't so much as glance at the trees, or linger for a moment before she strode towards the boulders. Despite the quickness in her movement, she looked like a film skipping frames - one moment right at Loftskip's side, the next a few paces in front of her. She molded to the stillness, and each time she passed through a sunbeam, the golden dust gave her the momentary illusion of having wings.

The woman's silence made Loftskip's wards turn brittle at the edges, wracked with uncertainty.

Ana turned and looked back at Loftskip, the motion so smooth that Loftskip almost didn't see her move at all. "Is there a problem?"

Loftskip cocked her head to the side. "A problem?" she echoed.

"You stopped walking. I can only assume there is a problem."

There was a stiffness to Ana's tone that Loftskip couldn't quite decipher, and it sat restlessly in the back of her mind, right beside the last conversation she and Ana had shared about an hour ago. "No," she answered, quickly catching up to Ana. "No problem."

"Good." Ana turned around the moment Loftskip reached her. "Watch your step here." Ana walked towards the nearest boulders, each taller than Loftskip, covered with moss in certain places. Among the trees, Loftskip spotted more boulders to the left and right, crowded with reddish ferns and lost in more of the orange light. She ignored them as best she could, keeping an eye on the foliage surrounding the boulders that Ana was walking towards.

As they approached, the orange light gave way to deeper shadows, cast from the towering pines that flanked the stones. The moment she stepped into the first shadow, Ana lifted her hand, igniting a small golden flame in her palm. The ghostly flame wreathed around her wrist and lower arm, and the air shimmered around it. She slowly extended her arm, and the shimmer passed over the short ferns surrounding the boulders.

A moment passed.

The air around the ferns seemed to twist suddenly, and then fracture without a sound. Loftskip nearly flinched when the empty air was replaced by a much larger fern. Furthermore, when Ana turned her hand so her palm faced downwards, her own golden light exposed a cluster of mushrooms that Loftskip knew for certain hadn't been visible before.

She stayed close to Ana, keeping a half-step behind her and to the left. The glamours on the ferns dissolved before her eyes, revealing more mushrooms, but the ground was still unsteady and thick with pine needles. The passage between the boulders was narrow, but Ana walked through it unaffected, and Loftskip warily followed her. She braced one hand on the boulder, once her wards were certain it was free of magic.

Out of habit, she reached out and laid a hand on her companion's shoulder.

Ana went stiff at her touch, and a moment later she brushed Loftskip's hand away.

Loftskip came to a dead stop, staring after Ana as she walked past the boulders, extinguishing the light in her palm with a clenched fist. Before the glamours could repair themselves, Loftskip darted between the mushrooms, only stopping once she was clear of the orange light. Ana hadn't stopped walking, either, and seemed intent to keep on going without so much as a glance back at Loftskip.

She only stopped once Loftskip said firmly, "Ana, wait."

Ana paused. Loftskip noticed her hands were still clenched in fists, and she forced her fingers to lay flat before she turned to face Loftskip. "What?" Ana said tonelessly.

Loftskip's wards chimed, sensing a rise in static in the air. Loftskip forced herself to ignore it for the moment. "There  _is_ a problem," she said carefully, watching Ana's hands and the golden threads at her wrists. "You. Something is - different. I'm not sure what it is, but you are not behaving normally."

Ana's eye twitched. "Has it possibly escaped your notice that we currently have more pressing issues than my _behavior?"_  Ana hissed. "Because it has  _not_ escaped mine." 

Loftskip lifted her hands up to her sides in as nonthreatening a way as possible. "Ana, you were not behaving like this when we came to the forest." She kept watching the woman's hands. So far the glow was absent. "I don't know why, but - you are treating me like the enemy again." She dropped her hands to her sides. "I need to be able to trust you, Ana. Especially here."

Ana's lip curled back. "It has nothing to do with you," she insisted, the words scraping out of her throat.  _"Nothing._ I _told_ Robbie - I told him no harm would come to you from me." Something shifted in Ana's shoulders - for a moment she seemed to cave in on herself. Her composure returned almost in the same moment Loftskip saw it disappear, but she knew what she'd seen. 

_And_ what she'd heard.

The lilt of desperation.

A fragile note of helplessness.

It was so well hidden that Loftskip knew she would have to pry it out herself, or it would never be said out loud. 

"Ana," Loftskip murmured, "earlier, when we saw the flare, you said - you were glad he has people he can trust."

"And your point would be...?" Ana scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. The gesture was the most organic thing Loftskip had seen from her since they'd reached the boulders - she finally looked less like a silhouette in motion, and more like a person. A person whose eyes refused to look directly at Loftskip, and kept glancing back to the sky. A person whose fingers curled in her sleeves - all signals so minute, Loftskip would miss them if she blinked.

Time was short, and Loftskip could see so clearly that Ana fraying at the edges, piece by piece.

"Two people, Ana." The words echoed off the boulders and trees. "You said there were two people he could trust."

Ana bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, and her eyes were a stormy gray as she slowly returned her gaze to Loftskip. She loosened her arms from her chest, waving them limply out to her sides and drawing them back for a single, reverberating clap. "Does the truth really surprise you so much?" Ana said scathingly. "Shouldn't it be obvious? You see everything else, but you can't see that my own _son_ does not trust me anymore?"

The edges frayed, and split, and crumbled like the glamours on the ferns.

Loftskip didn't have time to regret her bluntness before Ana gestured at her with a scowl that every bit matched the ones Loftskip had seen on Robbie's face. "He cares about _you_. About the  _elf._ He worries for your safety, he  _trusts_ you, and I do not - I do  _not_ blame him, I  _don't_. You've protected him, and I've-" She sucked in a ragged breath, a vein pulsing in her neck. "He shouldn't-" Each word came clipped, catching in Ana's throat before finally trickling out between her tightly clenched teeth. "He doesn't  _need_ me anymore. He shouldn't have risked his  _life_ to bring me back, because the only thing it has caused is more misery! He wouldn't be in this fucking  _forest_ if he'd - if he'd just-"

"You would be  _dead,_ Ana," Loftskip interrupted sharply. "They didn't want - they  _couldn't_ even consider that, but if we'd failed to save you - we would've had no other choice!"

Ana tipped her chin back, making a show of looking away from Loftskip. "We've already been dead for eighteen years," she spat. "The better plan would've been to fill the sewers with fire and let us burn. You shouldn't have let them risk their lives-"

"I didn't  _let_ them do anything!" Loftskip snarled, taken aback by her own ferocity. "Yes, maybe I could have stopped them, but I didn't want to!" Ana's eyes flicked back to her when she said this, and her attention gave Loftskip the momentum she needed to continue, "You're not the only person we were trying to save! I want Íþró back, too! He's as much my family as he is Sportacus's! And I don't care what you think he thinks of you, for as long as I've known Robbie he has been bitter and distant and - that morning, after we freed you - he came out and he told you me you remembered his  _name,_ and I have  _never_ seen him as happy as he was in that moment."

Ana's breaths were shallow, and her eyes seemed to glisten. Loftskip felt a crackle of static electricity in the air around her, and couldn't tell whether it was coming from Ana, or herself.

"Gods, Ana," Loftskip whispered, "are you honestly telling me that Robbie shouldn't care about you just because he doesn't  _need_ you??"

Ana flinched at this accusation, and her eyes went back the ground. "I've hurt him," she croaked. "I've hurt him more than anyone else ever has. More - more than any elf, any human, any other fairy." 

"Look at me, Ana," Loftskip snapped. To her surprise, Ana's withering gaze met hers. "Look me in the eye and tell me you weren't happy to see him, when you remembered who he was. When you said his name. Try to tell me that meant _nothing._ Tell me that he should've left you behind, instead of taking you home and letting you see him again." 

Ana's jaw trembled. "It doesn't matter," she said weakly. "He asked me to trust him, to  _believe_ him when he said you were a friend, and I didn't." Her gaze fell on Loftskip's chest. "He has every right to doubt me, after what I've done."

Loftskip grabbed the sides of her head in frustration, fingers digging into the back of her mask. " _Think_ for a fucking moment, Ana! He doesn't care!" Her fingers sputtered with arcs of blue. "He was willing to try and free you even after what the monster did - he was willing to befriend an  _elf,_ after a  _lifetime_ of being told not to trust them! If you're  _really_ so worried that he doesn't trust you, then fucking  _talk_ to him! Don't just stand here and martyr yourself after everything we've gone through to get you back!"

She wasn't quite sure when she started walking towards Ana. All she knew were the words she was trying to drive through Ana's skull. She came to a halt just in front of Ana, looming a foot above her, and now every one of the uncertainties on Ana's face were clear as day. "We  _need_ you, Ana. Glanni and Íþró, they need you." There was a moment when her hands were at her sides - the next, they were framing either side of Ana's face. "I need you to understand that we brought you back because we _wanted_ you back, no matter what doubts we might've had. I want to know that I can count on you. I want to know that if this forest decides to come crashing down, you won't leave me to fight it on my own." 

Ana's lips cracked apart, a near-silent gasp of a breath escaping between them. The corners of her eyes glittered wetly.

"Ana," Loftskip murmured, "do you understand that? Your son trusts me, and Sportacus, and _you_. He trusted you to come with me into this forest. Was he wrong?" Her thumb drifted over the ridge of Ana's cheekbone. "Is he wrong to trust you? Do you  _really_ believe he should've just left you to die?"

All Loftskip could hear for a minute was Ana's shaky breathing. The tears threatening on her eyes never came, nor did the sob Loftskip could see catching in her Adam's Apple.

Loftskip could see the word take shape - a dull pair of letters, curving Ana's lips and pinching the sides of her mouth together. 

The sound of it was lost as a single echoing explosion shattered the silence around them. Ana's eyes darted away from Loftskip's head, and the tail end of the word on her lips turned into a choking gasp. 

Loftskip's head whipped around, and through a gap in the trees she saw a patch of sky.

There against the clouds, as vivid as a smear of fresh blood, was a single arcing plume of red smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad I've got Witness Protection on speed dial I'mma need it
> 
> Also, random thing... since my trip to Bermuda, my chapters haven't been getting as many comments as they used to. I'm not exactly sure why, if it's just because of the chapter content, or because people have stopped reading the story altogether. It's a little discouraging, so I'm just wondering if there's any reason people might have stopped wanting to comment. The comments keep the fic going, they're my favorite thing to see, I love seeing people being happy if I do something nice and REALLY MAD if I do something evil.
> 
> Idk. It just feels like the readers aren't as interested anymore. Comments are the only (or rather the best) metric I have to judge interest.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH
> 
> (For chapter-specific reasons and because honestly it didn't really make much sense to begin with, I had to retcon how the flares work. Just a few minor changes to chapter 16-18. Now it's just a nice normal flare gun.)

The river calmed, over the course of the next few minutes. Sportacus rested his chin on his knees, wrapping his arms around his legs and staring at the brackish water with half-lidded eyes. His own breath felt hot against his skin, coming from his nose in short puffs no matter how hard he tried to concentrate and slow it down. Craning his neck from side to side helped relieve the sensation of pinched nerves around his collarbone and shoulder blades, but so far none of his efforts had alleviated the ringing in his ears.

Around and between his eyes, his skin felt like it was stretched taught, and fiercely itchy. He suspected the dust in the air might be the source of the irritation, but there was... coldness, too. Frigid like the pain in his chest. He'd been hit in the face with snowballs as a child more than once - the sensation of snow and flecks of sharp ice covering his face wasn't too far from the stinging cold now sitting beneath his temples. 

It would pass. It always did. His wards needed to readjust, that was all.

In the meantime, Sportacus watched Robbie pace the riverbank. They had a precious few minutes to spare, but while Sportacus was taking that time to rest, Robbie kept himself busy. His eyes were fixed on the sky in search of butterflies - or so Sportacus assumed - and he'd done his best to wipe the mud from his arms and legs. He'd only succeeded to a minor extent; there was still dirt stuck in his hair, around his ears, and there was no shortage of leaves and twigs caught up in the fabric of his sweater. His wings seemed to be the only part of him that had emerged unmolested from the river.

Even now they were stiff and glowing purple, magic drifting off of them with every flutter and filling the air with the smell of warm cotton. 

Robbie kept pacing for just shy of ten minutes before he came to a halt and sucked in a deep breath. His fingers twitched anxiously at his sides, and his narrowed gaze didn't leave the sky. "...we should get moving," Robbie said in a clipped tone, turning his back to the river and walking towards Sportacus. "I haven't seen them yet, but I'd rather not wait around for those six-legged bastards to show up again." 

Sportacus lifted his head. Just that single movement made his whole spine tingle. "Right," he said, startling himself when his voice cracked. Rolling onto his knees, he slowly pushed himself off the ground, trying to get a foothold in the grass. The ground beneath him was slick with mud, and the pins and needles crawling up his legs did him no favors.

He let out a few controlled breaths as he stood up, doing his best to keep himself steady. Despite his best efforts, a wave of nausea swept over him as soon as he straightened up all the way. Robbie must've noticed his lightheaded stagger as he walked over to Sportacus. "Hey, are you okay?" He looked closely at Sportacus, worry etched in his face. "I thought your hand was the only thing you hurt, did you-?"

Sportacus shook his head. A few more breaths quelled the worst of the nausea. "No, I'm okay. Just strained my wards a bit getting out of the river."

"You sure?" Robbie reached out and laid his hand on Sportacus's bicep. "I mean, if you need-" Robbie quickly glanced at the river, then the forest, then to the sky again before finally looking back to Sportacus. "If you need a little longer to rest, we can stay put. Get you something to drink or eat or-"

"No, you're right," Sportacus interrupted gently, rubbing his hand over Robbie's. "We can't stay here."

Robbie pursed his lips. "Well, eat something on the way, at least." He gestured at Sportacus's backpack. "Granola bar or apple or whatever you've got in there." 

"You sound like Loftskip," Sportacus pointed out with a smile. 

"Well, considering she's not currently around to harp on you to take care of yourself, the duty falls to me," Robbie retorted. Glancing away, he peered at the treeline, shading his eyes against the hot sun overhead. "Looks like the trees are a little sparser that way," he said. Sportacus tried to get a look at the part of the forest Robbie was gesturing at, but a handful of black spots floated over his eyes, turning his vision blurry. 

For a moment, Robbie became little more than a silhouette, determinedly marching off towards the forest. 

Sportacus winced and rubbed his eyes, and the black spots drifted away.

One breath, then two.

Three, four.

_It'll pass._

_Keep going._

Slinging his backpack down his arm, Sportacus steeled himself against his ringing ears and aching legs and followed Robbie across the meadow.

 

* * *

 

They could smell apples.

 _Why_ could they smell apples - they remembered running to this dark place, there was nothing around them but dense wood and the stench of rot and mold, and yet they could practically taste sweet apple on their tongue. 

The phantom taste lingered for only a heartbeat as they stirred, and the moment they opened their eyes it vanished completely.

In its place they tasted their own coppery blood.

With a rasping wheeze, their head pitched forward, long coiled tongue slipped past their broken teeth as they coughed out the old blood that had been slowly filling their mouth as they slept. Their saliva stung the cuts on their lips and the roof of their mouth, and no amount of dry heaving could dislodge the chunks of crystal trapped at the back of their throat, pulsing in time with their heartbeat. 

Lungs and jaw aching, they swiveled their head around, eyes slowly adjusting to what dim light filtered through the wood around them. The intensity to the thin rays of light told them it was still daytime, and yet, the tree around them felt somehow darker, and smaller. They tried to get up from the mossy ground, but their arms could barely make it more than a few inches before they snagged on -  _something._

Looking down, they found a cloak of roots and ivy vines, draped around their shoulders and heavy as stone. 

**What-**

The rest of them shifted. Their body lolled to the side as their second head rose up, twisting around to meet their gaze. Vines collared their throat, and they let out a slow croak, their thoughts coloring their mind blue.

**_Stop it, stop moving-_ **

Their eyes were discolored, iridescent where they should've been dark gray. 

Ignoring the intruding thoughts, they began thrashing what limbs they could control. Their other half snarled sharply, dropping their body down and making it that much harder to move against the roots. Their legs managed to move a little farther than their arms, but the moment they tried to move the back end of their torso, a flash of red split through their mind. The crystal on their back let out a weak cry, a grating sound of glass against glass, and for a half-second they felt a pain in their body like hot coals being pressed against their skin.

They couldn't  _feel_ it, but - they knew, they _knew_ it was there. Making the skin blister and turn black, slowly tightening around their body. 

A shriek echoed through the tree.

**_STOP IT-_ **

Something glittered in the corner of their eyes. The light had kept them hidden, but the moment their other half screeched, butterflies painted purple and white and dark orange swarmed their head. Each insect trailed iridescent dust, and half of them fluttered out of sight. They could feel the presence of tiny feet on their back, tapping against the skin, landing around the black chains of iron still pressed into their flesh.

Their dark-haired head dropped, breathing hoarsely. A scowl full of yellowed teeth split their face.

The butterflies swarmed their face, and the crystal in their throat and chest screamed.

A wince crossed their face.  _ **Shut up.**_

**It's iron - it's iron-**

_**Doesn't hurt. Doesn't hurt.** _

**It's still-!**

_**Shut up, shut up-** _

The butterflies danced in circles around their heads.

Their crystal screamed so loud it made their head throb, and they tore madly at the ground, struggling against the cage of roots forming around them. They heard a raspy groan, and saw the head shake. They could feel their wings fluttering on their back, in time with the motions of the butterflies. One insect's wing grazed against their temple, and for a half-second they caught a glimpse of a raging river, and blood on the ground.

The crystal started flashing.

Suddenly they could smell apples again.

**No no no what have you done-**

_**Let me-** _

The butterflies danced faster.

**We can't - we can't-**

_**Shut up shut up and let me-** _

**WE CAN'T-**

A roar erupted from their other throat, guttural words sounding in the tree like a clap of thunder. Their eyes shone like two tiny stars, and they slammed their one free hand down on the ground. The edges of their eyes glistened, tiny drops of water barely visible against the bruised skin as their face dropped down inches from their eyes. 

" _Let_ -" they choked out, "letmeee keep usss _ssaafe!!"_

The vines closed over their mouth before they could take their chance to speak, and the pleas in their mind were met with silence. Their crystal burned in the back of their throat with every breath.

Their other half turned away, butterflies swarming their head and shrouding their eyes.

**What have you done - what have you done-**

 

* * *

 

Robbie was ten paces ahead of him, at the most, when the black spots came crawling back. Sportacus could barely bring himself to take a few steps forward, strap of his backpack digging into his arm like he was carrying a half-ton of bricks. His upper lip pulled back in a breathy grimace, and his stomach twisted with what felt like hunger pangs, just a little bit sharper than he was used to, and a little bit closer to his ribs.

The sound of the zipper on his backpack grated against his ears like the shriek of a table saw. A shudder passed over his body from that sound alone, leaving every muscle twinging and tensed.

It didn't help that his damn ears wouldn't stop  _ringing-_

Something popped and fizzled, somewhere in his vicinity. Down near his chest, he thought, or inside his head.

Sportacus came to a jarring halt in the middle of the meadow, suddenly short of breath, head pounding. He could still see Robbie ahead of him, walking without so much as a lick of hesitation, but Sportacus could barely  _see_ him anymore - the black spots were creeping out from the corners of his eyes and turning  _red-_

 _Everything_ turned red, for just that moment.

Sportacus's jaw dropped open slightly, and his mouth turned dry in the span of a second. He tried to call out to Robbie, but no sound managed to make it past a sudden tightness in his throat. He felt like he'd swallowed a stone, and he couldn't say _anything -_ Robbie was too far ahead of him, he needed to catch up, they needed to stay close-

He should've taken another step forward, then. There was no reason - no good reason he couldn't-

Slowly, Sportacus turned his gaze downward, eyes wide and burning; he couldn't so much as bring himself to  _blink._

His legs-

He couldn't move his _legs_. 

The ringing in his head reached a pitch that brought it near to silence, and Sportacus felt something hot trickle down his left earlobe and onto his neck. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down the bridge of his nose. He stood frozen, each breath just barely rasping in and out of his throat, and themoment he tried to move his legs again the muscles cramped so intensely he was sure his tendons would rupture.

Robbie was  _still walking-_

His arm. He could still move his arm.

Black spots flickered across his eyes, but Sportacus could still clearly see the inside of his backpack - apples, snack bags, binoculars. 

He fumbled inside, even as the air itself fought him, pushing his arm back like he was trying to move through mud or molasses. His hand trembled so badly he could barely get a grip, and by the time he found what he was looking his face was stained with sweat or tears, or maybe both. He pulled his hand out of the backpack and let it drop to the ground - the whole world seemed tilted, and it took everything he had just to keep a grip on the flare gun and a single crimson cartridge.

Sportacus almost dropped the cartridge, his hands were shaking so badly. The skin between his thumb and palm slipped between the hammer and the barrel, but his whole arm was too numb for him to feel the skin tear. 

The barrel clicked shut.

His breath came out as a rasping squeak, and he curled his fingers around the grip of the gun. He thought he heard one of the mechanisms break, but he realized in a second that it was the sound of his own teeth chattering. There was an intense pain growing in his jaw, but it was blotted out as a tremor wracked his body, and a dozen cold spikes jammed into his chest.

Sportacus aimed his violently trembling hand at the sky.

A blood vessel burst in his right ear, and he squeezed the trigger.

 

* * *

 

Robbie shrieked and lurched forward when the gunshot went off, nearly tripping over his feet. All the hair on the back of his neck stood on edge; his wings tensed sharply enough to pull a muscle in his shoulders. 

"What the  _fuck-"_ Robbie spun on his feels. "Why-??"

His words choked off in horror; he felt like he'd been hit in the chest with a train. The first thing he saw was Sportacus's shaking hand, flare gun rattling in his grip for a second before it slipped past his fingers and fell to the ground. The shaking conjured up a memory of the town square, heat radiating off Sportacus's body and his arms trembling in rage and his eyes like a wild animal-

Then he saw the tears and sweat streaking down Sportacus's cheeks. The red trickle of blood coming down his neck. His mouth hanging open, his jaw trembling, but not a sound making it past his lips. 

His arm dropped to his side, and he swayed dangerously, eyes still locked on Robbie, and Robbie didn't think he'd ever run so fast in his life. He all but crashed into Sportacus, catching him by the shoulders. His elf's whole body shivered with each panting breath. One of Sportacus's hands clutched at Robbie's sweater, and the other clawed loosely at his own chest.

"R-Robbie," Sportacus croaked, "I can't - I can't move-"

"What??" Robbie's gaze swept over Sportacus - he couldn't see any injury, couldn't see a trap, and his wards couldn't  _feel_ anything around them. "Did you - did you get hurt?? Why didn't you-"

Claws curled into Robbie's chest. "I can't-" Sportacus wheezed, "Robbie, _please_ -"

Sportacus's eyes suddenly rolled backwards in his head, and his legs chose that moment to give out underneath him.

Robbie was barely able to catch Sportacus before his whole body twisted in a violent seizure, and the crystal on his chest began screaming.

 

* * *

 

...screaming?

They hissed. This wasn't right. There shouldn't be screaming, yet.

They opened their jaws - ignoring the red, it was flashing so bright, they didn't  _need_ it, they were  _safe_ and it didn't hurt and they just needed to _stay_ that way - and exhaled, breathing out a cloud of iridescent dust.

All the butterflies around them fluttered up and and reached halfway across the forest, and they could all but _see_ the tussocks and the silt-blackened river and the bright, bright blue and purple silhouettes.

**_Leave us ALONE-_ **

They let out a roar _,_ and the butterflies rose. 

 

* * *

 

Ana stared with watery eyes at the smoke in the sky, her blood running cold in her veins. A gust of wind pulled at her body, almost threatening to push her off her feet, and up above it scattered the smoke until it was nothing but a faint pinkish mist. The hands on her face dropped away, falling to Loftskip's sides as the golem stared mutely up at the clouds.

_Gods, **no** -_

As the explosion's echo faded, another sound took its place; one not as deafening as the gunshot, but no less frightening to Ana.

Loftskip made a noise like a person getting punched in the stomach, and the crystal on her chest chirped sharply, flashing a piercing white. She doubled over, cupping a hand over her crystal, the lights of her eyes invisible for a moment as the white light washed out the shape of her face. The distinct blue only came back into view when she looked over at Ana, and this time, the color was so bright it nearly filled the dark holes in her mask.

"How fast can we get there??" Ana breathed.

The light of Loftskip's eyes darkened. "Hold on."

Ana's brow furrowed, but Loftskip didn't elaborate; she only ducked forward and swept her arms underneath Ana's legs and shoulders. Ana sucked in a sharp breath as her feet left the ground, and she had only a half-second to hook her arm around Loftskip's back before the golem took off like a bullet. She charged past the boulders, leaping over each fallen log and around every cluster of ferns with unprecedented speed. Her hair whipped around her face, and before she could quite adjust herself a tree branch made solid contact with her head, hitting her hard enough to draw blood.

Ana grit her teeth and let the sting of pain encourage the golden magic coiling in her palm.

 _Be ready,_ she told her wards,  _be ready._

There wasn't time to be afraid, or worried.

Her eyes flickered gold.

Her aura ghosted out around her, enveloping Loftskip as she ran, and every tree branch that touched them turned to ash.

 

* * *

 

"Shit, shit,  _shit!"_ Robbie dropped to his knees, struggling to keep Sportacus from hitting the ground. It didn't help that all of Sportacus's limbs were thrashing against him, and he barely dodged a knee to the gut as Sportacus's body jackknifed. Spit frothed at the edges of Sportacus's mouth, and Robbie wasn't sure if that meant he was choking or if he'd broken something in his jaw or - or - or-

Sportacus grabbed the sides of his head and  _screamed._

_Fuck fuck fuck what do I **do** -_

Robbie's head pounded, his vision turning blurry as tears started welling up. Brushing them away, he steeled himself and tried to pull Sportacus into his lap. The elf's legs kicked weakly, heels digging into the dirt, and his hands clawed at his hair above his ears. His back arced as a second seizure wracked his body, and with each heaving breath his jaw clamped down so hard Robbie was scared he'd break a tooth.

"Hold on, Sport, hold on,  _please,"_ Robbie begged - it was the only thing he could  _do,_ he didn't know how to make the damn crystal stop flashing or how to stop a  _seizure._ "You - you sent the flare, they must've seen it, they'll-"

Sportacus let out a broken sob and squeezed his eyes shut. 

"Stop-" Sportacus wheezed. "Get - get _out_ -"

Robbie's eyes widened. The seizure subsided - for the moment - and he dragged his elf onto his lap, supporting his head in his hand. "Sport, I'm here, if you can - please, tell me what  _happened,_ how do I - how do I  _fix_ it??"

Sportacus's back arched, and he threw his head back against Robbie's palm, knuckles going white as his fingers dug into his skull. "Get them  _out_ get them out I can't - I can't - get them out, Robbie, please - _please-"_ His breath hitched, and he let out an agonized scream, body jolting and curling inwards towards Robbie. He twisted and pressed his face into the crook of Robbie's elbow, gasping, "Get  _out of my head!!"_

Robbie's heart skipped a beat.

This was different, so different, but-

He turned Sportacus as best he could and placed his own hands beneath the elf's, palms to Sportacus's cheeks and his thumbs firm against his temples. His skin was freezing cold, clammy with sweat, but Robbie forced himself to look past it. He blinked twice, and the outline of Sportacus's body was overrun with blue; dangerously thinned at the edges of his aura, and densest around his chest and head.

Sportacus's crystal was a beacon of molten cobalt.

His wards keened, repulsed by the bitter _cold_ that surrounded Sportacus's crystal. Robbie scouted his elf's fraying aura, but no matter how hard he looked, no matter how far he spread his own magic, he couldn't find anything but blue. Shards of silver flickered throughout, brightest at Sportacus's throat and eyes, but where Robbie remembered once seeing a crimson parasite, lacing Sportacus's lips, there was nothing.

Right down to the bone, Sportacus's aura was his own blue, and Robbie couldn't see where the pain ended or began.

"Get out," Sportacus pleaded weakly, aura flashing around his eyes. "Get out - get out of my head, get out of my _head_ -"

The sound of Sportacus's voice broke Robbie's concentration, and his aura sense faded. He tried to wipe the blood away from Sportacus's ears, whispering, "I can't  _see_ anything, Sportacus, I don't know what's  _wrong -_ I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please just hold on-"

Sportacus's words stumbled over each other as he shivered, slipping between Elvish and ragged English. " _Rauð ljómi -_ it's cold, it's cold,  _það er kalt_ it's _so_ cold - Robbie  _please_ get them out, make them  _stop -_ red,  _red,_ it's dark it's red it's  _cold,_ get out get  _out-"_

Robbie clapped a hand over his mouth, biting back a distraught sob. His vision blurred wetly, and he blinked the tears away and tried to hold Sportacus closer, tried to keep him from thrashing and maybe hurting himself worse. "I don't know  _how,"_ he said brokenly. His wards let out a wail, prickling on the back of his neck as a fresh seizure tore through Sportacus, contorting his body and curling him into Robbie.

The seizure broke, leaving Sportacus panting for breath and mumbling hoarsely, "Robbie, the wings - the wings, they're _-_ they're in my head, they're  _here_ \- the dark, they're in the dark-" His words choked off in a feeble, raspy scream, and his eyes rolled back again. 

Robbie's wards shrieked, bristling between his shoulder blades.

 

He looked up just in time to see a glittering cloud gust across the river. His eyes widened, and he pulled Sportacus closer, bracing one hand in the dirt and hunching over his elf. The swarm hovered above the tussocks, churning like the fractals inside of a kaleidoscope. Robbie's wings flared up at his sides, and his aura spilled out around him, carving a circle through the air.

His mind flashed to the trees; their gossamer needle-studded wards, shining luminous like the sun, and just as untouchable.

He narrowed his eyes, and the skin of his palms  _burned_.

Pain spiked in his wrists, and he felt something hot drip slowly from his nose. He could barely see through the salty tears and sweat, and his heartbeat was thundering in his head, but it wasn't loud enough to block out the sound of Sportacus's strained breathing. 

The ground beneath him rumbled. The butterflies coiled together like a snake poised to strike.

"Give it your best fucking shot," Robbie growled, and a spiderweb of purple energy erupted from the earth around him.

 

* * *

 

The ground shuddered.

Loftskip came to a jarring halt, waiting to see if the earth was about to open up and swallow her if she took another step forward. Only just now did she notice the gold aura enveloping her like smoke, keeping all the ferns around her at bay. She could hear Ana breathing heavy and slow through her nose, her hand curled into a tight fist as it laid against Loftskip's chest. 

"...I can hear the river," Ana murmured, eyes stormy and golden. "It shouldn't-"

Loftskip heard the scream only seconds after Ana did. In the few seconds it took Loftskip's mind to process the sound, Ana pried herself from Loftskip's arms and hit the ground running, heading straight for an opening in the trees. Loftskip hesitated just a fraction of a second longer before she pushed all notions of  _thinking_ from her mind and forced herself to act. 

Ana burst through the trees onto a grassy hillside, Loftskip hot on her heels. The blinding sunlight blotted out the landscape for a second before Loftskip realized they had emerged onto a meadow. They slid down the slope to the open field below, and the moment Loftskip set foot in the grass, her wards recoiled from the acid touch of virulent magic. Even Ana stopped short, frozen by the sight ahead.

Halfway between the slope and the river was a swarm of glittering insects - unmistakably butterflies - but even at this distance Loftskip's wards knew the stronger magic was in the object they were attacking. It was hard to see through the swarm, but Loftskip could make out the shape of a dome, maybe eight feet tall and just as wide, crafted of hundreds of small floating pieces of earth. Crackling lines of purple energy arced between the chunks of clay and dirt, reducing the contents of the dome to little more than a hazy mirage.

A painfully familiar scream, hoarse and breathless, echoed from within the purple aura.

The sound seized Loftskip like a bear trap. All her instincts told her:  _run, break them down and take him and **run.**_

This time, she didn't let her better judgment hold her back.

Her fingers flexed, and she rolled her shoulders forward, arms out at her sides. With a fizzle of off-white plasma, her spectral claws burst from her fingertips, and she ran for the dome.

But for all Loftskip's speed and fury, Ana was faster.

 

* * *

 

The golem had the right idea, but Ana  _knew_ how a forest worked - or how it  _should_ work. Fighting the butterflies head-on wouldn't work, but putting distance between the swarm and themselves...  _that_ was key. The dome in the middle of the meadow had already done half the work, distracting the butterflies for just along enough for Ana to sprint forward unseen.

Ana pulled her hands apart as she closed in, stretching a Cat's Cradle of golden energy between her fingers. 

She shouldered past Loftskip, ignoring the sting of burning plasma chafing on her wards. Twisting her hands at the wrists - one hand clockwise, the other counter - she snapped the gold strings. The light mushroomed from her hands right as the nearest butterfly turned in the air, finally noticed her presence, and the swarm darted upwards. Ana skidded to a halt just before she impacted with the purple dome, and in the corner of her eye she saw a face framed by black bangs snap up and look in her direction.

"Robbie," she shouted, "drop the dome!!"

She restrained her magic only until Loftskip caught up to her, and then she smashed her palms together. Her aura ballooned around her, encompassing herself, and Loftskip, and the purple dome. The butterflies reeled against it, scattering in all directions, and the golden threads in Ana's tunic all began glowing as a second, larger dome took shape above her.

The blood rushed from Ana's head as the wards solidified. Fighting a fresh, dull throbbing in the veins of her wrists, she turned towards the space the smaller dome had occupied. It crumbled before her eyes, and her gaze met a pair of wide blue eyes. Her stomach lurched at the sight of blood trickling from Robbie's nose, and tears streaming down his face.

Her son was on the ground, trembling, wings limp against his back. He clutched the elf to his chest, and the elf's hands were gripping the sides of his head, face contorted with pure agony.

"He sent the flare, then he just - he just _collapsed,_ " Robbie gasped, hyperventilating. "His crystal went off and I tried to help him but I don't - I don't know what's _wrong_ , he's having seizures and I can't fix it and it's  _hurting_ him!!" 

The elf let out a shrill cry and writhed in Robbie's arms. Loftskip all but pushed Ana out of the way, dropping to her knees beside Robbie. She brushed her fingers through the elf's hair, and only then did Ana notice her son's hand in the elf's hair, too, shaking like a leaf, one thumb rubbing the elf's temple. She might've stood staring a while longer, if she hadn't heard the popping sound of small bodies colliding with her wards.

"Whatever you're doing, do it fast," she said through gritted teeth. "I don't know how long I can keep them out."

The only reply she received was the ragged sound of the elf screaming in pain.

 

* * *

 

**Listen to me-**

There was still no answer.

**LISTEN to me!!**

The iron was there, it didn't matter if they couldn't  _feel_ it they knew it was  _there._ Even if the whole tree closed around them - and they could feel it creeping, blacking out the sunlight - the iron would still  _be_ there and nothing would  _change,_ not if the whole world was taken in a flood, or burned. The iron was  _there_ and they couldn't so much as  _move,_ much less free themselves of it. 

Of course there was danger elsewhere, but there was still danger _here_ , digging into their skin, and they wouldn't  _listen._

There were butterflies in their ears, butterflies _everywhere_ - 

Some of them were in reach. More than one flew too close, spinning in the air, trailing dust-

Their arms may have been held down, but not their teeth. 

Not their teeth.

 

* * *

 

"There - there wasn't any red," Robbie hiccuped, lip quivering with barely-restrained sobs. "I looked in his aura like last time, there wasn't any  _red,_ I don't - I don't know what's  _wrong-"_

"Robbie," Loftskip urged, "breathe." 

He clamped his mouth shut, drawing in breath after nasal breath. He rubbed his hand across his upper lip, and Loftskip realized his hand was bloody even before it reached his nose. Worse still, the veins in his arm were blackened, the skin around them red and inflamed.

She wished she had the time to worry about Robbie, but she felt a hand fall limp against her chest, and thoughts of the half-fae vanished from her mind. Sportacus's head lolled towards her, his eyes shaking in their sockets, not managing to focus on Loftskip's face. In between each half-choked breath she heard him croak in a brief burst of Elvish, _"They're cold, they're cold, ship, please-"_

 _"I'm here, litla hetja,"_ she assured, voice cracking. 

"I can't  _see_ ," Sportacus rasped. A second later his back arched, a seizure coursing through him, and he grabbed the sides of his face again, one hand finding Robbie's and squeezing. "Get out, get  _out_ _of my_ _head!!"_

"Robbie, hold him still!" Loftskip ordered sharply. Robbie nodded feebly, fresh tears pouring down his cheeks. He wrapped an arm over Sportacus's chest, tugging his hands away from his face and pinning them at his sides. Sportacus struggling, gasping for breath, and Loftskip pressed one hand against his temple. His skin was freezing beneath her touch. 

Her other hand, she placed on top of his crystal. The moment she did so, an arc of blue shot up from Sportacus's chest, passing through Loftskip's arms and running down her arm. Sportacus's eyes turned a blazing turquoise, and Loftskip felt his crystal call out to hers. In the back of her mind, she heard a child's voice crying, and her memory was overrun by a pair of smaller, younger eyes, half-shut and hidden behind splayed fingers.

She remembered him curled in a lap that wasn't her own, rocked side to side in sturdy arms. 

She remembered a lullaby tune hummed in a voice she hadn't heard in nineteen years. She couldn't remember the words, but she could see clear as day the bright flashing of their crystals - the flashes that woke them both from sleep, and stirred her systems into a panic. A nightmare, she'd later learned; a nightmare and a new crystal that hadn't learned the difference between false and true danger. 

The magic in her chest twisted in horrified recognition.

_Litla hetja, what have we done-_

The seizure weakened, and his aura waned, and gave her the opening she needed. Loftskip plucked the sound of the lullaby from her own memory, and let it bleed down through her aura. Hers was stronger, and overpowered Sportacus in the span of seconds. She folded her aura around his crystal, keeping the hum of her memory close at hand, and she rubbed her thumb over his temple. 

One little sliver of a memory was all it took.

Sportacus's body thrashed once and then went limp. The blue faded from his eyes as they closed, and he was motionless for a terrifying moment.

Then his chest heaved and he started coughing.

 

Robbie's hands were on his face in seconds, brushing his bangs to the side and wiping away the blood from below his ears. Slowly, Sportacus's breaths regained their rhythm, and he leaned his face into Robbie's hand.

"...S'quiet," he mumbled weakly, closing his mouth and swallowing with a grimace.

Loftskip sat backwards, flexing her fingers slowly. She felt like all the seams in her body were coming undone, and when she looked down at her gloves, she found the stitches had split in between each finger. The pale blue energy inside her body glittered at the gaps, painful upon contact with the air. Clenching her fists, she gave her elf a dire look. 

"You idiot," she muttered.

Neither Sportacus nor Robbie seemed to hear her; Robbie was the only one who even looked up at her, after a minute of brushing his hand through Sportacus's hair. "What the  _hell_ was that?"

Loftskip's gaze fell on Sportacus's crystal, and narrowed. "... _that_ was a vision."

"A _visi_ -" Robbie balked. "Why the fuck did it cause a  _seizure??"_

Loftskip wished she had to ability to convey a scowl in more than just her tone. "It is his own fault," she said darkly, dropping her head into her hands and rubbing the back of her mask in frustration. The exhaustion gripping her frame made the growing confusion on Robbie's face seem inconsequential. "His fault and mine... I should've known, I should've known better..."

"...ship?"

Loftskip looked up to see watery half-lidded eyes looking her way. Her crystal ached at the sight. "I'm here, litla hetja," she said softly.

"M'sorry," Sportacus croaked. "Didn't - didn't know that it'd-" He tried to sit up in Robbie's arms, but his arms gave out halfway into the attempt. He slumped against Robbie's shoulder, eyelids heavy. "I'm sorry..."

"So am I, Sportacus," Loftskip whispered. "So am I."

 

* * *

 

Ana almost wished she hadn't looked back to see her son's hands in the elf's hair. 

Almost.

Her wards frothed at the sight, whispering _danger_ in her ear, but she ignored them. Her gaze lingered on her son's bloody hands, and the red on the insides of the elf's ears, and the tears on both their faces. When the elf tried to get up, and instead crumbled against Robbie's chest, the way Robbie pressed his nose into the elf's hair didn't escape her notice.

She looked away, then. Looked back to her golden dome, and the butterflies crashing against it, and darting away before the wards could snap them up.

She looked just in time to see a swallowtail flap upwards - once, twice. 

On the second wingbeat, the butterfly sizzled, turned black, and crumbled to ash in the wind.

 

* * *

 

The butterfly - white and yellow, crushed and bloody - tasted like tree sap on their tongue. 

Finally, their other half spoke. Or rather screamed. 

**_WHAT DID YOU DO-_ **

A second butterfly, then a third and a fourth and fifth, flitted too close, and all met their end between their grinning jaws. 

 

* * *

 

Five butterflies turned to ash in the air, far out of reach of Ana's wards, in the span of a minute.

The rest of the swarm frenzied in the space they left behind, forgetting the dome and its contents entirely. Ana stared with widening eyes at the panicked insects, and as she watched, another handful disintegrated.

 _Wrong,_ her wards hissed, _this is wrong this is_ _ **wrong** -_

"Loftskip." Ana looked back at her companions. "Call your ship."

The golem lifted her head. "What?"

"Can you reach your ship from this distance??"

"Yes, but-"

"Then call the ship," Ana said sharply. "We need to leave  _now."_

Robbie's brow furrowed. "But you said the forest-"

"I was wrong," Ana snarled. "This forest, it's all wrong - I don't even know if it'll _care_ about the ship. Call it  _now."_

Loftskip hesitated, then nodded, and Ana looked back at the meadow outside the dome.

Another butterfly turned to ash, and the wind stole it away, leaving nothing but silence in its wake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....that went well.
> 
> Sorry it took so frickin long for this chapter to get out, writer's block hit me in the face like a vengeful train. But hey, got to post on Friday the 13th! Now it's time for me to go wreak havoc in my Jason costume *cackles* please leave maaany screaming comments for me to enjoy when I get back!
> 
> (Initially posted on Friday the 13th. I updated its date of upload because I'm not sure if AO3 is having a problem with notifications and letting ppl know when this has been updated.)
> 
> -
> 
> For anyone who's interested, I did a painting based off the boulders from last chapter. You can watch it on [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IOPNIardqYM) if you want to see how that scene looked in my head :D


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20 chapters... that's got to be some kind of milestone, right?

Robbie was the first one into the ship, Sportacus practically hanging off his shoulder, barely able to stand on his own two feet. The walls rattled around him, the engine nearly deafening, and he forced himself to ignore it as he led Sportacus to his bed. The elf did his best to stay upright, but the moment he reached out and felt the blankets, his legs gave up entirely, bringing him collapsing down onto the mattress.

Distantly, Robbie heard the door slide shut, and felt the airship rumble, but his attention was locked firmly onto his elf. Still breathing heavily, Sportacus grabbed at his chest, fingers fumbling around his crystal. 

"Robbie,  _get it off me_ ," he begged through gritted teeth.

Nodding frantically, Robbie pried the crystal out of its chamber, fighting off a reflexive wince. The surface of the crystal was a cold so freezing he could feel it in his bones, and he held it as gingerly as he could before dropping it down onto the blankets. Sportacus weakly moved across the bed, away from the crystal, side-eyeing it with a look that was half fear and half... something else, something Robbie couldn't quite make sense of just yet.

Robbie could still feel the crystal's cold aura, ebbing up from the mattress. He carefully wrapped it in the blankets, but even the layers of fabric couldn't entirely suppress the chill. Unsure of what to do with the crystal, he turned around with the intent of asking Loftskip, but the words died in his throat as soon as he saw her standing on the other side of the ship.

Despite her lack of an expression, there was something to her posture - the hunch of her shoulders, the flexing of her fingers - that sent a wave of alarm coursing through Robbie's body. Her eyes were barely more than blue pinpricks inside her mask, narrowed for a moment at the lump of fabric in Robbie's hands before she slowly turned her gaze towards the bed.

"Sportacus," Loftskip intoned darkly, as the ship lurched and began ascending, "you lied to me." 

Robbie's skin crawled. His head snapped around, back towards Sportacus, and he found his elf curled up on the mattress, cross-legged and arms wrapped around his chest like a shield. He refused to meet Loftskip's gaze.

"Loftskip," Sportacus said quietly, squeezing his eyes shut, "not now,  _please_..."

" _Yes,_ now!" Loftskip snapped, advancing forward. Robbie reflexively moved a few feet to the side, putting himself closer to Sportacus. Loftskip's hands clenched at her sides, and she halted ten feet away from the bed. "You  _lied_ to me. I realize - I realize I shouldn't have pushed you into taking back your crystal before you were ready, but you should have  _told_ me what was happening!"

"Hold on," Robbie cut in, glancing down at the cocooned crystal and then back at Loftskip. "How is this  _his_ fault?? The forest-"

"It wasn't the forest," Ana interrupted in a murmur. Her gaze and her voice were hollow as she stared into space and murmured, "Not the trees, not the butterflies. They don't..." She rubbed her fingers and thumb on one hand together, and Robbie thought he saw a glittering powder on her skin, barely visible in the light coming through the windows. "That's not how it works."

Loftskip dragged her hands down her face. "There isn't a  _question_ about what happened, I  _know_ what happened, and so does he!" She gestured angrily at the bed behind Robbie. "Did it never at  _any_ point occur to you that it might be necessary for the rest of us to know that you don't trust your own  _crystal_ anymore?? I have no idea what would've happened if I hadn't gotten there when I did, you could've been permanently injured or  _worse!"_

"What  _else_ was I supposed to do?!" Sportacus exclaimed sharply. "Just let it take me over?? I can deal with the pain, I can't deal with that again! I'm sorry, I  _know_ I should've told you, but I didn't - I didn't know it was going to  _cripple_ me so badly, I thought it was just going to hurt like last time-"

 _"Last_ time?!" Loftskip teetered on her feet, eyes widening to fill her dark sockets completely with blue. "What do you -  _when_  did you-"

Sportacus's hands curled into fists, and breaths came out rapid and uneven. "When you almost  _died!"_ he shouted, sitting forward suddenly on the bed. He stumbled to his feet as one hand dropped to the fabric of his shirt and gripped tight where his crystal used to be. "I could see you  _breaking_ and then I  _felt_ it and it made me lose control and I can't - I can't  _do_ that, I can't keep letting them in!! I  _can't!"_

Loftskip was silent for a minute. One hand absently drifted up her chest, grazing the crystal on her corset. For a moment her gaze fell across Robbie again, and her eyes dimmed. 

"Was that really your plan?" she eventually asked. "Keep blocking out your crystal and your visions, until... what??"

Sportacus looked at the floor. "Until the monster's been separated, or killed," he spat. "They'll keep finding a way inside my head. This is the only way I know how to keep them out." He glanced to his side, towards Robbie, and Robbie felt a chill run down his spine. The look in Sportacus's eyes was a familiar one, brimming with a crude mixture of tears and bitter shame. It was the same look he'd seen the night after Sportacus came back to the ship with a monster in his head.

"I can live with...  _this,"_ Sportacus mumbled, gesturing at himself. "I can't - I can't live with being  _used._ I can't live with hurting you again."

Robbie paled, voice catching on the inside of his lungs, and all he could do was stare down at the wrapped crystal in mute horror. He could still feel the cold, leeching up into his skin like sewer water, and his stomach lurched. Stepping away from Sportacus, he placed the crystal on the nearest couch. As he pulled his hands away from it, he felt like someone was peeling dried glue off his palms.

He could feel the crystal tugging at his aura, and he counted himself lucky that he couldn't  _hear_ it, too.

"You can't use only a part of a crystal," Loftskip said quietly. "It'll just keep rebounding on you."

Sportacus shrugged, scowling. "Then I won't use it. I'll make do with the magic I have now." He tried to stand up a bit straighter, but the moment he did so one of his legs seemed to lock up, and he doubled over against the wall.

Robbie was at his side in a heartbeat, easing him back down to the bed. Sportacus's skin still felt clammy to the touch, and Robbie could feel his own headache climbing up the back of his skull thanks to their arguing. Looking over at Loftskip, he said in as firm a tone as he could muster, "Look, he's exhausted.  _I'm_ exhausted. I don't know what you did with his crystal, but it probably took a chunk out of your magic, too. Can we just - can we worry about this later??"

For a moment, Loftskip looked like she wanted to refute Robbie's request, but the energy seemed to bleed away from her body in the course of a few seconds. She rubbed the porcelain between her eyes, posture slackening as she let out a noise akin to a sigh. Arm dropping to her side, she approached the bed and laid a hand on Sportacus's shoulder. He leaned into her arm, but kept his eyes away from her face. Even so, Robbie could see the tears pricking at his eyes with perfect, painful clarity, and he had a feeling Loftskip could, too. She knelt down in front of him, taking one of his hands in hers.

Only now that he had Loftskip as an object of contrast did Robbie realize just how much Sportacus was still shaking.

"...I'm sorry," his elf whispered, his breaths ragged. He sniffed and slowly wiped a hand across his eyes. "I should've told you."

"Bear that in mind, next time you feel like shouldering a burden on your own," Loftskip said, giving Sportacus's bandaged hand a gentle squeeze. "I... you should try and rest, if you can. I will..." She glanced over at Robbie, and made another sighing noise before standing up and stepping away from the bed. "I will monitor the forest for now. We'll discuss your crystal once you've had time to recover, but we  _will_ address it." 

Sportacus nodded, and Loftskip rubbed a hand through his hair. Without another word, Loftskip turned and walked to the other half of the ship, her pace unsteady for a moment before she straightened up and composed herself. Robbie watched her leave until she waved a hand at the ship, and the glass divider slid into place and cut Loftskip off from the main cabin of the ship.

The moment the divider closed, the tension in the room seemed to dissolve, leaving Robbie numb. Sportacus let out a sob of a breath on the bed, pulling his knees up to his chest and cupping his hands over his face. He closed his eyes and leaned against the headboard, each of his breaths slowly becoming a little more rhythmic than the last one.

Robbie hovered by the bed, unsure of what to do next, but he was saved from having to decide when his mother's voice broke the silence.

"Robbie," Ana called softly. He turned around to see her coming towards him. "Let me see your arm."

He blinked. "My...?"

Pursing her lips, Ana took one of Robbie's hands and pushed his sleeve up his arm. The moment she lifted that arm, he sucked in a hiss of alarm, and his stomach started churning again when he saw the blackened veins in his forearm, darkest at his wrists and fading all the way up to his elbow. The skin around the veins was painfully red, and the muscle of his arm felt increasingly sore when his mother experimentally pressed her fingertips to the skin. 

"...oh," Robbie squeaked. "That, um..."

Ana sighed. "You didn't even notice, did you?"

When Robbie didn't bother answering, Ana rolled her eyes. "Sit down," she ordered, directing Robbie to the nearby couch. He obeyed without a second thought, and resisted the instinctive urge to pull his arm away from her as she sat down beside him and lifted his hand up, scrutinizing the black veins. His skin itched horribly every time she so much as grazed her fingers against him, but he bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to stay still.

"...It's not as bad as it could've been," Ana stated after a minute. "It was a smart move to use the soil as a conduit. The damage would've been much worse if you'd tried to make a pure energy ward on the spot." Pressing the fingers of her left hand to the crook of his elbow and the fingers of her right over his wrist, she let out a slow exhale. Robbie watched the air around her hands take on a golden hue, and a subtle warmth spread through his arm. He grimaced in discomfort - it felt like she was taking a barbed comb and raking it through his arm, down through the tissue and all the way to his bones. 

Ana's aura steadily overtook Robbie's arm, and within the span of a few minutes the soreness faded, as did the unpleasant color in his veins. Even so, she didn't let go of his hand for another minute after that. 

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Ana asked, brow furrowed. 

Robbie glanced over his shoulder towards the bed. Sportacus hadn't so much as budged in the last few minutes, and it looked like the shaking has gone down, if only very slightly. "No," Robbie answered, shaking his head. "Just scrapes. Might've gotten killed by the river if it weren't for him, though," he added, almost as an afterthought. Given what had transpired with the crystal, he'd almost forgotten the river entirely. 

He felt his mother's grip on his hands tighten for a moment. "What happened with the river?"

_Mud reeking like compost and rotting meat-_

_The swallowtail on his elf's shoulder-_

Robbie'd jaw clenched. "We got to the meadow, and I wasn't watching where I was running and I almost fell in, but there wasn't... there wasn't even any water  _there,_ just a big muddy ditch, and we tried to cross and the butterflies showed up and I just... I remember watching them and the next thing I know Sportacus is telling me to run... did you  _know_ the river could flood like that??" 

With each of Robbie's words, a bit of the color drained from Ana's face, and by the time he finished talking she'd gone still as a statue.

"Mom," Robbie repeated under his breath, "did you know the river could do that?"

Ana's upper lip curled, and she pulled her hands away from Robbie and laid them against her stomach. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her tunic, and she took a few slow breaths, closing her eyes for a moment and then looking down at her lap. "It  _shouldn't_ have," she answered, her voice distant and her brow scrunched from what Robbie could only assume was intense thought. "I'm not sure what caused the flood, but I know something isn't right about that forest." She stood up from the couch, fingers twitching restlessly, and her gaze drifted away from Robbie. "There's no point in you worrying about it right now. Worry about your elf."

Her tone didn't leave much room for argument, and she turned away and walked aimlessly towards the other side of the ship, rubbing a hand over her mouth. Robbie frowned and watched her for a heartbeat before he stood up and made his way back to the bed. Just as he was sitting down on the edge of it, trying to come up with something reassuring to say to Sportacus, he heard Ana quietly call, "Robbie?"

He looked up to find her standing with one hand pressed against the glass divider. "Yeah?"

She offered him a faint smile. "I'm glad you kept each other safe."

Before Robbie could even fully process her words, the barrier hissed. Ana ducked through, the glass closed behind her, and a silence broken only by the sound of soft, shivering breaths crawled back in to fill the space she'd left behind.

 

* * *

 

As soon as the divider shut behind her, Ana's lips tightened into a frown, and she laid back against the glass with a dull thud. Her hands and shoulders prickled with a heat like hot coals, and the lines in her palm still glowed a feverish gold.

"Stop it," she scolded under her breath.

Her wards tugged her attention to the other side of the glass, pushing images of blonde hair and blue and _claws_ into her head, and she scowled darkly. "We've no right to judge them," she whispered. " _Stop."_

Mercifully, her wards fell quiet. She could still feel them seething, clinging to their old instincts, but they exchanged their petulant whining for a nagging headache. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment of private thought, trying to put her personal doubts to bed as well. Most of them were insubstantial, baseless worries, but one had gotten its hooks in her mind and refused to let go.

_He didn't tell me._

Of course he didn't. And who was she to question that decision? Yet it still weighed on her, almost as much as the dust from the vanishing butterflies. 

Even the light shining through the windows felt heavier and hotter than usual; the warmth of it was enough to slowly draw Ana out of her thoughts. She opened her eyes and squinted against the sunbeams, and found a silhouette lurking beside the windowpanes. The golem didn't seem to have noticed Ana's arrival, and was staring down at the forest below as the ship cut slow circles through the sky.

Ana watched Loftskip in silence for a moment, and considered not saying anything. There was plenty of space in this half of the ship; she could take the couch and meditate and Loftskip probably wouldn't bother her...

The golem leaned into the window and tapped her head to the glass, as her fingers drummed restlessly against her leg. 

Ana sighed, and cleared her throat to announce her presence. 

The golem startled and lifted her head. "...Ana."

She needed to think, she needed to sit somewhere quiet and  _think,_ but-

"Would you like company?"

Loftskip's shoulders sagged. "Yes," she said, rubbing a hand over the back of her skull and down her neck. "I'm... sorry for leaving so suddenly. I meant to ask if you were alright, you kept that shield up for so long..."

"It was easier than I expected," Ana replied. She clasped her hands behind her back and strode to the window, halting at Loftskip's side. The sunbeams all but entirely obscured the bright blue lights inside her mask; looking at the golem's face was like looking at two small copies of a pitch black night sky. Ana hadn't noticed until she was standing up close that there was a subtle pulse to the etched lines in Loftskip's mask; a faint bronzed glow, just a few shades removed from Ana's own golden aura.

As soon as Ana stopped, Loftskip cocked her head to the side, and raised a hand towards Ana's head. She kept her movements slow, and her palm open and nonthreatening, and brushed her fingers against Ana's hairline, pushing a few locks of hair out of the way. When the golem's fingertips touched the skin behind Ana's temple, she sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the area sting.

"When did this happen?" Loftskip asked, tone thick with concern. 

Ana reached up and gingerly touched the cut on the side of her head. The blood was dried onto her hair and part of the skin near her ear, and she'd forgotten it was there at all until Loftskip had pointed it out. "...when we were running, I think," she said. "It's small. It'll heal on its own." Ana wrapped her fingers loosely around Loftskip's hand and pulled it away from her face, and as she did she felt a sharp tingle of static jump from the golem's cloth to her skin. She nearly recoiled from the burst of electrical energy, but Loftskip beat her to it, jerking her hand away.

Loftskip ducked her head down, cradling her hand to her body. "I'm sorry, that wasn't on purpose-"

Narrowing her eyes at the golem's hand, Ana spotted a few slivers of bluish-white aura, leaking away from her glove. Both of Loftskip's hands were trembling, until she clasped one tightly around the other to keep them still. With her head turned down the way it was, Ana could finally catch a glimpse of her eyes - pinpricks again, the same color as the slowly escaping energy she was attempting to smother.

Ana's pulse skipped a beat. She stepped forward and brusquely took one of Loftskip's hands, ignoring the noise of protest she made. The golem's hand barely resisted as Ana splayed the fingers, and her eyes widened slightly as she flicked her eyes from one torn thread to the next. Almost every seam between Loftskip's fingers was split, and her aura was ebbing away in wisps and arcs. The faintest crackling sound reached Ana's ears as she closely examined the damage. It wasn't unlike the injury her son had suffered earlier, although it was so subdued in comparison that she might not have noticed if Loftskip's hand hadn't been so close to her face.

"Ana, you don't have to-" Loftskip began, but Ana held up a dismissive hand, and the golem fell silent.

"Just because I'm better at unraveling things, doesn't mean I can't put them back together," Ana murmured. She brushed her fingers over the ball of Loftskip's hand, the heavy fabric feeling like callouses, and she slowly encouraged her aura out again. It felt more brittle this time, resistant to her call, but all the same, she draped it over the seams, and coaxed them to knit themselves back together.

Thread by thread, Ana mended the golem's wound. Once she knew the pattern of repair, her aura took to the stitches automatically, allowing Ana's thoughts to roam elsewhere. Loftskip didn't make a sound while Ana mended the first of her torn hands, but her crystal gave off a stuttering flash, its light intensifying sharply each time Ana pulled a thread too tight.

Running her tongue over her lips, Ana looked at the golem's face. "May I... ask you something, about what happened at the river?"

Loftskip met her gaze. "What about it?"

Ana traced the creases in the fabric of Loftskip's palm. "I'm not... I'm not very familiar with elf crystals. I know how to - how to make  _use_ of them, but I don't understand how they _work_." She let go of Loftskip's hand and reached for the other one. "What  _happened_ to the elf? Why was his own crystal causing him so much pain?" 

The crystal's pulsing stopped. Loftskip's free hand drifted up to her chest, gently touching upon the dark metal bezel holding the cabochon in place. Her index finger twitched slightly, grazing over the surface of the crystal itself, before her hand fell away, and she returned her gaze to Ana's face. "They're meant to keep elves safe," she said quietly. "It's... not the same as mine. My crystal  _is_ me, but his... his crystal is like a second aura." Her head turned a bit to the side, staring off into space in the general direction of the window. "Elves get their crystals when they're young. It takes time for them to adjust, and it's not always easy, but once it's  _done,_ it's done. And if they _lose_ their crystal, if it breaks or if they're given reason not to  _trust_ it anymore..." This time, she looked Ana dead in the eye. "Imagine having half your aura taken away. Or having it turned _against_ you." 

Ana couldn't say for sure if Loftskip _meant_ for those last few words to hold the emphasis they did, but they were undeniably effective at bringing up a memory of a dark sewer and rebar and a blood-red glow on the back of her mind highlighting the deepest cracks in the elf's crystal-

_" Don't make me hurt him- "_

Her fingers clenched for a brief second, and she nearly lost hold of one of the last undone seams in Loftskip's hand. "You know full well that I can do more than just  _imagine_ that," she said under her breath. "But that's not what happened at the river, was it?" It  _couldn't_ have been. She may not have understood  _why_ a crystal could cause that kind of pain, but she knew with absolute certainty that the circumstances were not the same as the ones that had brought about his separation from his crystal in the first place. 

Loftskip made an effort to sound like she was sighing heavily. "No, but if it hadn't _been_ for that, the vision wouldn't have hurt him at all." She rubbed her hand over where her mouth would be and looked away. "He didn't trust his crystal. His aura thought it was a hostile force, so it tried to defend against the vision, but since his crystal is still a  _part_ of him... his aura was attacking itself. Visions don't  _stop_ until they're seen, and his aura wouldn't fully let him see it." Loftskip removed her hand from her face and slowly flexed her fingers. "I had to pry open a gap in his aura, to let the vision through."

Ana nodded slowly, but her brow was still furrowed in confusion. "But  _why_ doesn't he trust his crystal?? It's not  _connected_ to the monster anymore-"

"He's scared the monster will take him over again," Loftskip muttered sourly. "And I don't particularly blame him."

"But-" Ana protested, "it  _can't-"_

Her words died halfway out of her throat, and she dropped Loftskip's hand. She was vaguely aware of those blue eyes staring at her again as her jaw dropped open a few inches, and she took an abrupt step away from the golem. Her heartbeat was pounding in her head all of a sudden, her chest tight around her lungs and her voice barely more than a breathy stutter, her tongue heavy and useless in her now dry mouth.

_It can't-_

Of course it  _couldn't,_ and of course the elf didn't - no, not just him,  _none_ of them realized-

"Ana-??"

She couldn't even bring herself to give Loftskip a second look. Clamping her jaw shut with a sharp breath, Ana turned on her heels and darted back across the ship to the barrier, and all but slammed her hands against the glass.

 

* * *

 

Sportacus curled into the blanket Robbie had draped around his shoulders and huddled against the wall, curling his toes into the bedsheets beneath him. Having been relieved of his boots, vest, and armguards, he'd been instructed to stay put and let Robbie take care of him, and he wasn't in the mood to disagree with that verdict. He dazedly watched Robbie search through the food cabinets on the opposite wall, but his attention kept wandering back to the table, and the crumpled-up blanket that glowed just the faintest blue. One hand drifted mechanically up the side of his head, scraping over the dried blood that had dripped down from his burst eardrums.

"There's strawberries," he heard Robbie call from the kitchen area. "You want strawberries?"

"Sure," Sportacus mumbled, barely loud enough for Robbie to hear him. The sound of Robbie's voice drew his gaze back to the man, and Sportacus did his best to focus on the shimmering purple of Robbie's wings. The way they glittered was enough to bring some level of distraction, and comfort, even if the faint ringing in his ears still hadn't faded away.

Between that ringing, and Robbie mumbling to himself across the ship, Sportacus almost didn't hear the  _thump_ that came from over his left shoulder.

He  _did_ hear the hiss of the divider sliding open, and he turned to see Ana quickly stride back into the room, her posture rigid, hands held in clenched fists at her sides, and her eyes dead set on Sportacus. 

"You were wrong," she said, her voice almost seeming to fill the airship.

Sportacus turned towards her slowly, frowning. "...what?"

"You were  _wrong,"_ Ana repeated firmly, "about your crystal."

A lump formed in Sportacus's throat, and his fingers dug into the blanket. "I think Loftskip already made that clear."

Ana's lip curled back, and she waved a dismissive hand. She stepped further away from the divider, and it closed again behind her. The frosted nature of the glass seemed to blur over onto her form, making her harder to see at the edges. "No, I'm not talking about your decision to keep things from your allies. I'm talking about your _crystal_. You were wrong to  _doubt_ it."

Sportacus's eye twitched. Behind Ana, the divider opened and closed, admitting Loftskip, who stood a few feet away from Ana, looking between her and Sportacus and across the ship to Robbie. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat forward heavily, the floor cold against his now bare feet. "Ana," he said, tone darkening, "I  _can't_ trust my crystal." 

" _Yes,_  you can,"Ana insisted. "I know you didn't realize  _before,_ but I am telling you  _now,_ you've no reason not to accept your crystal back, in full." She gestured towards the ground with both hands. "If the monster is the only thing keeping you from trusting your crystal again, then you need to know that the monster  _cannot_ take you over anymore."

Sportacus bristled. "You don't  _know_ that-"

"Yes, I  _do!"_ Ana interrupted sharply, flattening her hand over her own chest. "I know because it wasn't the  _monster_ that took control of you, it was  _me."_

Somewhere in his peripheral vision, Sportacus thought he saw Robbie go shocked still, dropping a handful of strawberries on the floor. Loftskip, too, was frozen, only capable of taking a step away from Ana. The fringes of his vision fuzzed over a half-second later, and the ringing in his ears turned to a roar, echoing in his head and his bloodstream and the very tips of his fingers, as the points of his claws began to slowly slip out of their sheaths.

"Your cousin helped," Ana continued, her tone clipped and words unrelenting. "He showed me where your crystal was weakest, but it was  _my_ magic that broke through those cracks." She pointed at Sportacus. " _I_ am the one who stole command of your body and mind." She pointed across the room, at her son. " _I_ am the one who forced you to attack Robbie."

Her eyes went to the table, and then back to Sportacus's face, opening her arms to her sides. " _I_ am the one who turned your crystal against you. What is left inside the monster is nothing that can do the same again, because the only one who has that power - is  _me."_

Sportacus wasn't sure what happened first; Robbie shouting his name,  _Loftskip_ shouting his name, or his legs propelling him forward from the bed, bringing him crashing into Ana. His blood burned white-hot in his veins, his breath coming in rapid, furious gasps as he grabbed Ana by the front of her tunic and slammed her against the glass, almost lifting her off her feet. Her head hit the wall with a crack, but she held Sportacus in an ironclad stare, lip twisting in a grimace and nothing more.

His mouth curled back in a snarl. "Do you have any  _fucking_ idea what you did to me?!" 

"Sportacus-!" Loftskip shouted. "You can't-"

"Let him!" Ana snapped icily. 

Sportacus pressed his face up close to Ana's, baring his teeth, heart thundering in his chest like it was about to burst through his ribcage. "You  _used_ me," he growled, "you _used_ me and you made me - you made me hurt the people I love _,_ and you think - you think it  _matters_ whether or not you're part of the monster anymore??"His legs were shaking underneath him, keeping him standing, but only just barely- "Why the fuck are you saying this  _now?!_ It doesn't help me! You  _used_ me!! It doesn't fucking matter if you're part of the monster or not, why are you saying this _now_ -"

"It  _matters,"_ Ana hissed, "because I'm  _here._ And I will never touch your crystal again."

His hands tightened in her tunic. His breaths ached in his throat, wheezing past his teeth, and something stung the corners of his eyes-

"I hurt you," Ana breathed out, her face still stoic and her hands staying at her sides, not bothering to pry Sportacus off of her.

"You  _broke_ me," he snarled.

" _I_ hurt you," she repeated, more firmly. "Not the others.  _Me._ I took your crystal from you and I will not do so again."

"What makes you think I'd even  _believe-"_

"Sportacus."

He stopped breathing for a second.

A silence heavier than the water at the bottom of a deep, deep lake descended upon the ship. 

She lifted her hand, and his grip on her tunic was so tight he couldn't  _move,_ and all he could do was shudder when she gently placed her hand upon his chest. His wards, weak as they were, lashed out in a frenzy, coiling around her hand and biting into the skin. She didn't so much as flinch; her gaze was unwavering, almost softer than it had been, even as the first layer of skin on the back of her hand burned away.

"Sportacus," Ana murmured, "I will  _never_ touch your crystal, and I will never hurt  _you,_ ever again."

The saltwater sting on his eyes spilled over and ran messily down his cheeks. He held Ana pinned, but his hands were starting to ache, and his throat even more so, breaths scraping like sandpaper out of his lungs-

"I'm sorry," Ana whispered. "I'm sorry for what I did to you, and I'm sorry that there is no way to undo the damage it caused." Almost all the surface skin on the back of her hand, and part of her wrist, was gone, leaving raw pink tissue in its place. "I'm sorry you've gone so long thinking the monster is still a threat to your crystal. But your crystal is yours, and yours only." 

Sportacus's grip loosened, only the slightest bit.

That freezing cold - the void he'd been feeling from his crystal, ever since he'd taken it back-

It wasn't the monster.

It was just the empty spaces in his aura, where his crystal's presence used to be, before he blocked it out. Every plea from his crystal, every  _trust me, trust me_ that he'd assumed was a lie, all swirling just outside his aura waiting to be let in, until there was so much of it that it came in all at once and had nowhere to  _go,_ nothing to do except  _hurt-_

Sportacus's chest heaved as tears streamed down his face. 

"I'm sorry, Sportacus," Ana said one last time, "but I promise, you can trust your crystal now. It won't hurt you, and neither will I."

The strength in his hands finally ebbed away, and he released his grip on Ana's tunic with a shudder. He couldn't so much as bring himself to move; all his energy had been taken up by his burst of anger, leaving nothing left. The shudder bloomed in his lungs and throat, and he cupped his hands over his mouth as an overwhelming, delirious sense of  _relief_ swept over him.

He would've crumbled to the ground and laid there for hours until his energy came back, if Ana's hands hadn't come up to his shoulders, and kept him steady.

"Be angry at me for as long as you need," she told him, "but don't be angry at your crystal."

Sportacus let out a muffled, breathless sob. 

Ana bit her lower lip, brushing a gentle hand through his hair.

She pulled him to her chest and held him until his eyes were red and sore, and his sobs had gotten too quiet to hear, and the knife-tipped cold sitting behind his ribs finallyfaded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cackles while bracing for a likely hailstorm of comments asking why I am such a sadistic writer*
> 
> Man. Writing Sportacus yelling at Ana was surprisingly cathartic. This chapter was a big mess of anger and upset people and some fluff in certain parties, and hey! We're in the final stretch of the story! Now is the perfect time to be having character development :D
> 
> Methinks I need to watch some Stranger Things to de-stress. Or finish drawing that cute thing with baby Robbie and Glanni and Ana. Yeah, that seems like a good idea.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeeahhhhh... sorry it took so bloody long for this chapter to come out... a lot of stuff happened at once. I was setting up a short story blog, I got sidetracked with some general life stuff, bombarded by seasonal stress and work and family things... didn't help that we had to put down a cat we've had for 9 years. We knew it was time, but it still sucks. That probably put some kind of damper on my motivation.
> 
> But I'm back now. Don't worry. This story ain't going anywhere. (Even if I am going to Canada come Thanksgiving. That's gonna be interesting.)

Their link to the other side of the forest snapped, in the same moment the bodies of the butterflies inside the tree with them snapped and broke in between their teeth. Just like that, the vision of the four trespassers at the river and their golden shield vanished, and all they could see anymore was the yellowed teeth of their other face, grimacing. 

They staggered.  _ **What - what did you-**_

Pain blistered in their side. Spikes of incendiary heat crawled up the taught muscle in their torso, bone-deep and unrelenting. Pressure looped around their abdomen and one of their back legs, ending within inches of their wings. Each time they strained against it, the pressure only wound tighter. It was so familiar, the constricting force, the  _heat_ that scarred their skin like poison-

Not poison.

_Iron_. 

**You didn't listen,** their other half hissed. 

Their whole body went slack. The remaining butterflies in the tree crowded around their head, trying to reconnect to their aura. A single hoarse snarl from their second set of jaws kept the swarm at bay. 

**Not safe here,** the voice whispered in their head.  **Shouldn't have stayed, shouldn't - not safe, we have to _leave_ -**

Theirarms didn't want to move. The butterflies and the roots and the weight of the enormous tree around them had blotted out the pain, but now it wouldn't  _stop._

**_Couldn't feel it - it was FINE-_**

They saw the jaws part again, and their raspy voice filled the tree. "Sstill _hurrtss_ you," they croaked, barely managing to get the words out of their bloody mouth. Flecks of dust and butterfly scales lingered like mold upon their cracked lips, and they grimaced again, doubling forward with a wheezing cough. Dust and blood burst from their throat in a cloud, tinting the air with a harsh coppery stench. Raising their head again, tongue hanging limp out the side of their jaws, they glanced at the cracks in the trunk, where the sunlight shone through.

**Have to leave - have to-**

With a violent lurch forward, they stretched their claws out, raking them over the inside of the tree. They scraped at the rough bark until their fingertips were rubbed raw, and they could _feel_ the wood splintering beneath their hands, but the space within the tree only tightened around them. Amorphous shapes slowly slithered to replace the bark they tore away, obscuring what few fractured rays of sunlight they could still see. 

Vines. There were ivy vines outside the tree, and roots beneath their belly, closing around them like a second layer of skin. 

The moss-blanket on the bottom of the tree soon followed the roots, climbing up their sides, binding to their limbs. Thin, wiry shoots of green spread over their eyes like cobwebs, weaving its way beneath the plant matter already fused to their body. With a strangled shriek they surged forward again, desperately trying to dislodge the tree as it enveloped them.

A brittle ribbon of lichen grew into place around their throat, choking off their windpipe until their breath was nothing more than a faint wheeze. They could faintly hear their crystal sputter before their aura was overtaken by a yawning maw of older magic, slowly swallowing them whole. 

The last thing they saw before the hollow was enclosed by vines was the jaws of their other half; wide-open, bloody-teethed, and screaming.

 

* * *

 

Robbie stared in mute disbelief as his mother held Sportacus to her chest, patiently riding out the hiccuping breaths that wracked the elf's frame. Lingering panic still clutched at Robbie's spine, making his toes curl in his shoes, and the sight of singed skin on one of his mother's hands wasn't helping him relax in the slightest. He couldn't shake the restless feeling that there was something still unresolved about the fight that had just transpired, but he couldn't put his finger on what it might be. 

After another minute of suffocating silence, Ana slowly looked over to Loftskip. "You should take him," she murmured. 

Loftskip straightened up, promptly broken from her uncertain stupor by the sound of Ana's voice. She stepped forward and gently tugged Sportacus away from Ana, and the moment she did so Sportacus lifted his head, rubbing his palm over his blotchy eyes. He didn't say anything to Ana, and only looked at her for another moment before he sagged heavily against Loftskip. Even at this distance, Robbie could see his legs trembling, barely keeping him upright.

Wrapping her arm around Sportacus's shoulder, Loftskip pulled him away from Ana, leading him back towards the bed. Ana didn't move from the wall, keeping almost perfectly still, with the exception of the hand she gingerly cradled in the other.

Robbie's stomach churned, and he hurried across the ship towards Ana. He was more than a little tempted to check on Sportacus first, but he had a feeling there was nothing he could do at the moment that Loftskip couldn't equally do to help him. "How bad is that?" he asked when he reached his mother's side, trying to get a good look at the burn even as she seemed bound and determined to hide it. 

"It's manageable," Ana answered curtly, just the slightest twitch of a grimace visible in the corner of her mouth. "You shouldn't-"

_"Mom_." Robbie laid a hand on her wrist, and felt her stiffen. "Let me help." 

Ana breathed in slowly, curling her fingers around the back of her scalded hand, and with a low sigh allowed Robbie to gently lift her hand up into the light. Robbie hissed sharply upon seeing the raw, pink skin; blood oozed around her knuckles, and from the edges of every small patch of skin that still remained intact. The burn extended all the way up to Ana's bony wrist, and the as-of-yet-undamaged skin was starting to sizzle before Robbie's eyes.

"Shit," Robbie muttered. Blinking quickly, he circled his thumb and middle finger around her wrist, and pins and needles immediately crawled into his palm. Like a layer of muted watercolors, Ana's aura appeared over her skin, flickering in loops of gold as her magic attempted to repair the damage on its own. It took Robbie a minute of careful scrutiny to uncover the source of the continuing burn; a half-dozen tiny slivers of blue energy, jammed into Ana's aura like the spiny tips of a chestnut bur. 

Gritting his teeth, Robbie coaxed his aura into Ana's through the hand clasped around her wrist, and bit by bit he molded his aura around the festering splinters of Sportacus's magic. Pressing his thumb down on the skin over the invasive blue flecks, he snuffed them out before they could do any more damage to his mother's hand, and within a minute her aura was clear again. 

Robbie let out a shaky breath. "I don't - I don't know if I can heal it, but it shouldn't keep burning anymore." He looked back towards the kitchen, trying to remember which one of the cupboards around the table was holding the ship's first aid kit. "Come on, we should get it bandaged."

Ana nodded, breathing slowly with her jaw visibly tensed. She followed Robbie to the kitchen table, planting her elbows on its surface and leaning heavily on top of it while she held her hand as still as possible out in front of her. Robbie found a few bottles of lukewarm water in the first cupboard he opened, and quickly poured them into a bowl for Ana to soak her hand. As he slid the bowl over to her, he called across the ship, "Loftskip, where'd you put the first aid kit?"

"Top right cabinet, middle shelf," Loftskip called back without so much as glancing in the direction of the kitchen. She was sitting cross-legged with Sportacus on the bed, grasping one of his hands with both of hers.

It didn't escape Robbie's notice that Sportacus's claws were still unsheathed.

Clenching his jaw, Robbie tore his eyes away from the two of them and resumed his search for the first aid kit. Finding it exactly where Loftskip had said it would be, he dropped it onto the table with a loud thud and began searching through its contents. "Keep soaking that," he reminded his mother as he pulled out a roll of gauze.

"I know, Robbie," Ana acknowledged, the corner of her mouth twisting into a brief attempt at a smile. "I've dealt with burns before."

Robbie frowned, picking at the fraying ends of the gauze, averting his gaze from both his mother and the other two distant occupants of the ship. "You lost an entire layer of skin," he muttered under his breath. "Just from touching his wards for a few _seconds_. I didn't even know they could still do that, he's - he could barely even _stand_  ten minutes ago."

"His magic was angry," Ana said quietly, "just like him. Just as he has every right to be." Robbie saw her eyes flick momentarily to her left, towards the couches and bed holding Sportacus and Loftskip. "He'll recover. So will I."

Robbie's eye twitched, and he slumped down to the table and ran his hands through his hair. Rubbing his eyes, he let out a long sigh. "The last thing we need right now is you two fighting."

"I had to tell him," Ana said.

"Yeah, but did you have to let him _attack_ you?" Robbie countered. "You could've waited, just - just a _minute_. You could've waited until I was with him and I could've - I could've helped. Kept him calm, or - I don't know, I could've done _something!_  Now you're hurt and he's - he's-"

"Robbie," Ana interrupted gently, "none of this is your fault. What's done is done. He needed to know that he could trust his crystal."

"Yeah," Robbie frowned, "but I wanted him to be able to trust _you_ , too."

Ana's fingers curled into the table. "That's not a choice you can make, Robbie." She glanced away from him, over her shoulder. "Whether or not he trusts me after this is up to him, and him alone."

Robbie bit the inside of his lip, wracking his mind for something to say in response to that.

He couldn't think of anything, and gave up after a minute of fruitless contemplation. All he could do was sit and listen to the hum of the ship around him, and the distant whispers from the other side of the room that he tried not to eavesdrop upon. The occasional spike in volume, or the lulls of brief silence, spawned an icy dread in the back of Robbie's mind the longer he listened.

He must have started fidgeting at some point. Ana noticed, after a little while. 

"You care about him," she stated quietly. 

Robbie's fingernails scratched against the tabletop. "Yeah," he said, desperately trying not to sound as defensive as he suddenly felt. "Both of them. I care about both of them."

His mother blinked. She slowly ran her tongue over her lips, and twice she opened her mouth as if to say something else, but she couldn't seem to put her thoughts to words. She looked away from Robbie, her expression inscrutable, and finally murmured, "I meant what I said, about not hurting him again. I understand what he must mean to you." 

Robbie's heart skipped a beat. "Mom..."

"It should be fine to bandage now," Ana said evasively, lifting her dripping hand out of the water. Robbie pursed his lips, but didn't press the subject that his mother seemed all too keen to drop. Scooting his stool around the corner of the table, he carefully took his mother's hand, patted it dry with his sleeve, and started winding the bandages around the burnt flesh.

Robbie had gotten through bandaging most of Ana's hand when he caught sight of something glittering in the fabric of her tunic. Narrowing his eyes, Robbie reached out and brushed a finger over the iridescence on her shoulder, and noticed it was hiding in her hair, too. It came away on his hand, a dry, sparkling dust that looked entirely too much like powdered blood for his comfort. 

"Mom," Robbie intoned, moving his hand in front of her face, "do you know what this stuff is?" 

Ana leaned forward, squinting at the gleaming dust on Robbie's hand. Only a handful of seconds passed before her eyes went wide with recognition, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Giving Robbie a dire look, Ana said, "Robbie, when the ship came down, did you see what happened to the butterflies?"

Brow furrowing, Robbie shook his head. "No, I was a _little_ preoccupied." He fell the back of his neck prickle. "...why? What happened to them?"

His mother grabbed his wrist, turning his palm around to face him so the dust was in clear view. " _This_ happened to them," she said, her tone severe. "They started turning to ash before the ship even arrived. I don't know if it was all of them, but it was _far_ too many for it to have been an accident."

It took a moment for her words to fully register in Robbie's head, but as soon as he realized what the dust really was, his stomach convulsed with disgust, lip curling away from his teeth, his skin starting to crawl like he'd fallen into a large nest of ants. He frantically wiped his hand on the table, trying to get rid of the dust staining his fingers, and hissed, "What the  _hell_ do you mean, they just - just turned to  _ash??_ You've been wearing dead butterfly bits for  _how_ long??" 

"They're not real butterflies," Ana said, standing up from the table and quickly wrapping the bandage around the remainder of her hand. "The butterflies you saw were copies, split apart from a core by the forest's magic. That's how Courts use them to track trespassers; the core butterfly stays in the Court, and the copy scouts the forest, and the fae see through their connection." Ana winced as she pulled the bandage tight around her palm, and leveled Robbie with a dark look. "They only turn to ash like that if the core dies. And the cores don't die unless something kills them."

Robbie paled, his wings flinching against his back. "...why didn't you tell us that that's how they work yesterday?"

"Because there shouldn't  _be_ anything in that forest that would kill them," Ana said coldly, looking behind her to the glass bow of the airship. "First the trees. Then the river, and the butterflies..." Her hand gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white. "I wasn't sure if I was seeing a threat where there wasn't one, but I'm sure now. That forest isn't empty." Her eyes left Robbie's face, and slowly moved over his shoulder, and as he turned and followed her gaze, he found himself looking right at Sportacus and Loftskip.

Under her breath, Ana said grimly, "There is something controlling the forest, and I think your elf's vision showed him what it is."

 

* * *

 

The world around Sportacus had been dulled down to a handful of colors, shapes, and voices that reverberated dully in his head. His whole body ached, worst by far in his legs, which were cramping almost to the point of being unbearably painful. His hands felt like he'd just slammed them in a drawer, and he could feel every pulse of blood flowing through his veins.

A black-and-blue figure, like a bruise molded into human shape, sat in front of him, her smooth leather-bound hands clutching his palms. He was distantly aware of her speaking to him, but he couldn't quite bring himself to listen. His mind was filled to the brink of overflowing with an echo of Ana's words that matched the rapid pace of his heartbeat.

_Never-again._

_Never-again._

_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._

Even deeper, near the base of his skull, he felt a trembling plea nudging the boundaries of his aura again.

_Take me back - take me back-_

His throat went dry, and his eyes stung from the tears crusted at their corners. Slowly lifting his head, he looked at the couch sitting just five feet from the end of the bed, completely bare save for a small crumpled blanket, faintly glowing blue.

Sportacus shuddered, mouth parted with weakly hoarse breaths. "I should've - I should've-"

Loftskip squeezed his hands, and her voice broke through the murky fog surrounding his mind. "Sportacus," she urged gently, "you need to breathe."

He clamped his mouth shut, drawing in a few long breaths through his nose.

"Keep breathing," Loftskip murmured, rubbing her thumbs over his palms. "Can you retract your claws yet?"

Sportacus squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them slowly, his vision clearing a little bit more. "What?"

Loftskip's expressionless porcelain mask tipped downwards. "Your claws," she repeated, "you still have them out. Are you able to pull them back?"

Lip twitching, Sportacus looked down at his hands, and found them studded with sharpened points that he'd forgotten were there in the first place. The bandages around his broken claw had come almost entirely undone, hanging loosely around his finger. Narrowing his eyes at his hands, Sportacus concentrated for a few drawn-out seconds, and his claws slowly began to retract.

"Good," Loftskip said, "that's good."

"Legs hurt," Sportacus rasped.

Loftskip nodded. "I'm not surprised. You've put considerable strain on yourself over the past few hours." She bent forward and pressed her forehead against Sportacus's, the porcelain warm against his skin. He leaned into the gesture, fighting off his throbbing headache as Loftskip said, "I wish you hadn't reacted so... _physically_  to Ana's confession. I was afraid you'd hurt each other."

Sportacus stared listlessly down at the mattress, doing his best to keep his breathing steady. "...she should've told me sooner. Why would she - how could she wait for so long?? She let - she let me think-"

"I don't think she meant to leave you in this state," Loftskip said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "In fact, I don't think she was even _aware_ of the conflict between you and your crystal until today. If she had, I sincerely doubt that she would've kept quiet about it." Sportacus noticed the light of her crystal flicker, and Loftskip murmured, "My hands were damaged by your wards in the forest. Earlier, just before Ana told you about your crystal... we were talking, and she offered to mend them. She also asked me about what happened to you at the river. She seemed worried about you."

"Worried about me?" Sportacus echoed. "She's barely  _talked_ to me. I wasn't even... I wasn't even sure she knew my _name,_ until she..." He trailed off, tongue suddenly dry in his mouth, throat feeling like sandpaper. He leaned back from Loftskip, brow furrowed, as his mind replayed the memory of him pinning Ana to the wall, claws out and ready as if he was planning to slit her throat. Her hand on his chest, not caring if his wards burned her skin-

He could _feel_ the pain in her hand - weak and diluted, like the discomfort of sitting too close to a bonfire.

It was just like when he'd heard that sound in his head - like a scream from underwater - the first time he'd seen Robbie in one of his visions. 

Sportacus's stomach twisted.

Pulling his hands away from Loftskip, Sportacus wrapped his arms around his chest, one hand clutching the collar of his shirt. He glanced past Loftskip, fixing his gaze upon the softly pulsing glow of his crystal. He could still hear its quiet, persistent cries, like a dozen voices layered over each other until they merged into one. Sometimes he could recognize one or two voices, for a brief moment; a child's giddy shriek, Loftskip's sigh, Robbie's startled hiss of breath.

Now, Ana's voice was somewhere inside his crystal, too. 

Sportacus dragged his hands down his face. Loftskip rested a hand on his knee, and her touch and presence were no small amount of soothing. His voice muffled by his hands, Sportacus let out a long sigh and wondered aloud, "Did she really say my name on purpose? My crystal  _knows_ her now, she can't... there's no  _changing_ that. I didn't... I didn't think she'd ever let that happen."

"I'm sure she meant to," Loftskip said. "But I can't speak on her behalf. I would suggest maybe talking to her yourself, whenever you're-"

"I assure you, I meant it," a voice interrupted suddenly, startling Sportacus and causing Loftskip's head to perk up sharply. His stomach bottomed out upon seeing Ana approaching the bed, Robbie tailing close behind her. She came to a stiff halt, one hand rubbing the bandages on the other, and her eyes darted between Loftskip and Sportacus. "However, this isn't the time to discuss that. Right now, we have a much bigger problem on our hands."

Loftskip promptly stood up from the bed, cocking her head slightly to the side. "What kind of problem?"

"If we are to have any hope of going into that forest again, and coming out alive," Ana stated, "we're going to need a different plan." Her lip twitched into a scowl for a heartbeat. "I had a feeling something was wrong in there, but now I'm sure.  _Something_ is controlling the forest." She held up a hand, before anyone had a chance to interject. "It's not fairies. The forest isn't awake enough for that to be the case, but something is harnessing the forest to keep us  _out."_

Ana gestured back at Robbie, then to Sportacus. "You said the river tried to catch you in a flood? It only ever reacts the way it did if something commands it so, and _something-"_  she held out her hand, and Sportacus saw a glittering dust on her fingertips, "-destroyed the butterflies that attacked you, from a _distance_. Something linked to the forest itself."

"What kind of 'something'?" Loftskip asked warily.

The moment Ana turned her gaze to Sportacus, his blood ran cold. Her face was as expressionless as Loftskip's as she said, "I could guess its identity, but I have a feeling _he_ knows for sure." She tipped her head to her right, and extended her hand in a brief motion towards the couch, but her eyes remained fixed on Sportacus. "Neither myself, Loftskip, or Robbie were in immediate danger at the time, so something else must have triggered your vision, yes? What did you see?" 

Sportacus flinched under the force of her gaze. "I..." His head spun. "I don't - I don't  _remember."_  Even as the words left his lips, he knew they weren't entirely true. It was  _there,_ on the very precipice of his lucid memory; the pain of a  _parasite_ on the back of his neck, his crystal grating against his aura like sandpaper, some dark and enormous shape lurking in the corner of his eye. He could remember his own screaming cries, begging for the vision to end... he could remember Robbie's hands, and Loftskip, and a distant shape that must have been Ana, but he couldn't remember the vision itself, not with the clarity he needed.

The vision, like all the others he'd had before, was half kept in his crystal - the very thing that had given it to him in the first place.

Sportacus was keenly aware of all the eyes upon him as he stood up and limped between Ana and Loftskip, making an unsteady beeline for the couch. Loftskip remained still and calm, and Ana shied just a step back as he passed her by, and Robbie stepped around his mother and followed Sportacus to the couch. Bracing one hand on the back of the couch, Sportacus reached down to the blankets, his fingers twitching away from the fabric out of nervous habit.

Steeling himself with a slow breath, Sportacus tugged the blankets away from his crystal, and its light washed over his face. Biting his lip, he grazed his fingers over its surface, and he found that it felt warmer than it had over the past few days. Its aura pressed against his, and with a start Sportacus realized that his aura was eager to accept its presence.

He curled his fingers around his crystal, and lifted it up to his chest, holding it against his sternum. 

His aura folded around it, gathering its energy into the gaps in his own magic. Gritting his teeth, Sportacus focused on breathing - long breaths in, longer breaths out. The atmosphere in the ship was dense with silence, but Sportacus closed his eyes and ignored it, and thought back to the river, the butterflies, and the pain that had shot down his spine and made his legs lock up and his head split apart-

The memory didn't come slowly. It came all at once, so suddenly he couldn't help but let out a choking gasp. His grip tightened on the back of the couch, and his knees threatened to buckle, but he felt an arm wrap around his back, and a hand press against the front of his shoulder, holding him steady. Sportacus leaned instinctively into Robbie's form, lips parted with short breaths as the memory played out on the back of his eyelids.

_Trees so titanic they dwarfed the airship, and every building in Lazytown._

_Roots woven like a spiderweb across ground furrowed by fern-filled trenches._

_Brambles bent to an almost orderly design, arches and tunnels and trellises overgrown with ivy and lichen._

_Pine needles between the roots, drops of blood scattered upon them._

_A dark space, constricting as a coffin, lit from the inside by a feverish crimson glow-_

Sportacus's body seized momentarily, as the vision changed from simple sight to  _feeling,_ the way it had been in the forest. This time, the feeling was subdued, each inflicted phantom pain lingering for only a second before fading away.

_Pressure on his legs, arms, waist, throat, heavy like shackles, shifting like snakes-_

_His windpipe raw from screaming-_

_His back aching between his shoulder blades, his jaw aching from his own teeth piercing gums and tongue, a copper taste on the roof of his mouth-_

_Eyes in the dark - wild, yellowed, radiant with iridescent dust._

_That crimson shine._

_A guttural shriek._

**_LISTEN TO ME-_ **

Sportacus's eyes flew open, and he doubled over with a gasp, one hand grasping desperately at Robbie's arm for stability. His other hand maintained a vise-liked grip on his crystal, and his tongue felt leaden in his now-dry mouth. Blinking away a fresh soreness in his eyes, Sportacus lifted his head and said, not quite wanting to believe his own words, "It was them. I saw  _them."_

Loftskip straightened. "You had a vision of the monster?" When Sportacus nodded, she pressed, "Did you see where they were? Are they still in the forest?"

The taste of bile crawled up Sportacus's throat, and he grimaced. "...I think it's worse than that," he said hollowly. "They - they were somewhere dark, but somewhere within sight of the sky." Regaining his footing, and the strength to stand, Sportacus pulled slightly away from Robbie, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of what his vision had shown him. "There were trees - I've never  _seen_ trees so tall. And bramble patches, and trenches-"

"Oh,  _gods_ _,"_ Ana hissed, all the color draining from her face. Her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand, her voice thick with palpable dread as she whispered, "I know where they are. They're in the hollow."

Robbie's head snapped up. "The  _hollow??"_ he all but shrieked, right next to Sportacus's ear. "Are you - are you  _sure??_ If they're - if _that's_ where they've been-"

Ana dragged both her hands through her hair, dropping her chin towards her chest. "I know, I know..." Sportacus saw her one good hand clench into a fist. "If they're in the hollow, _they're_ controlling the forest," she growled under her breath. "To whatever extent they  _can_ control it." She tugged her fingers through her hair, pulling out a smattering of iridescent dust. "They sent the river. They were watching you through the butterflies, they  _must_ have been."

"Wait," Loftskip said, holding up a hand and glancing at Sportacus. " _How_ did they trigger your vision? Are they-?"

Sportacus's breaths shuddered past his teeth, and his gaze drifted to the windows, and the trees below the ship. "They were - they were screaming. I don't know which one, maybe both..." He furrowed his brow at Ana. "If they were tracking us with the butterflies, why would they destroy them??"

A vein tensed in Ana's neck as she looked up to meet his gaze. "...I don't know. I'm worried that there  _isn't_ a reason. Courts always have a  _reason_ for what they do, methods and precautions, it's how they keep their forests from turning on them - but putting a monster like  _that,_ in control of an entire forest? They may not be able to  _keep_ that control for very long..." Ana's hands fell to her sides, her breaths slow and deliberate, and Sportacus saw just the faintest trace of gold flickering in her eyes.

Turning to face the windows, Ana murmured with an air of harrowing finality, "We need to get to the hollow, tomorrow at the latest. If we can't get them out of that monster before they lose control of the forest - if they let the trees get a taste for their magic, with nothing holding them back - then by the time we get there, there isn't going to be anything left of them to save." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun times, man. Fun times. 
> 
> (Side note, is anyone here interested in following a tumblr blog run by myself and two of my friends, where we take turns posting a short story with a GIF prompt every Sunday? We only started it recently so there's only a couple stories, but hopefully there will be many more down the line. Any interest in getting a link to that?)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, y'all. We're in the final stretch and it's a bit of a crazy train.

Sportacus pressed a hand against the window, regarding the forest below the ship with a wary look. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"The trees didn't react to me," Ana's voice sounded from behind him. "I don't think the monster is focused enough to keep track of every threat that enters the forest, and I doubt their attention extends above the trees. If I'm right, it should be safe for the ship to approach the hollow."

Gritting his teeth, Sportacus turned and glanced over his shoulder. Loftskip sat in the pilot's chair, carefully guiding the airship at a sluggish speed that rendered their movements nearly silent. Robbie was pacing in the back of the ship, checking and double-checking their backpacks in anxious preparation for their impending arrival at the hollow. Currently Ana was the only person providing Sportacus with any ideas about a plan of attack, but nothing he'd heard so far was inspiring much confidence in their chances. " _If_ you're right," Sportacus parroted lowly. "And what if you're wrong?" 

The corner of one of Ana's eyes twitched, and her gaze slowly shifted past Sportacus to the sky outside. "We should approach slowly," she suggested. "Test the trees for any defenses. If they ignore the ship, we should make our landing on the outskirts of the hollow." Ana paused, then cocked her head to the side and asked, "Loftskip, is there any way this ship's sensors can penetrate the canopy?"

Loftskip made a noncommittal noise. "I doubt it. I scanned the forest back when Sportacus and I first arrived, it just bounces back as white noise. Too much condensed aura in one place." 

Ana pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest. "I thought as much..." Stepping forward slowly, she came to stand a few feet away from Sportacus, leveling the sprawling forest with a narrow-eyed glower. "We'll have to scout the hollow on foot. Its defenses will most likely be strongest at the center, so if we move quickly, we should be able to get to ground level without provoking the trees."

Sportacus nodded along slowly, keeping at least one eye on the forest below at all times. The trees had been rapidly increasing in both volume and size for the past few minutes, the canopy dark and dense and utterly impassable in all places except for a few scattered openings. Far in the distance, the forest faded into mountain foothills, but Sportacus's attention was firmly fixed on the heavy concentration of trees that stood at the center of the forest. For the moment, they seemed small, but Sportacus knew with grim certainty that they wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Where do you think they're hiding in the hollow?" he asked quietly. "And how are they controlling the rest of the forest?"

Ana rapped her fingers against her arm. "A connection to any one of the hollow's trees could grant them control of the court," she murmured. "It wouldn't make much of a difference which one, unless..."

Sportacus's heart skipped a beat. "Unless what?"

The way Ana's fingers curled into her sleeve didn't escape Sportacus's notice, and neither did the soft but sharp inhale of breath she took as she tipped her chin back and stared down her nose at the forest. "The true hollow is the oldest and strongest tree in the forest," she said darkly. "It's the absolute center of a living Court's power. The sheer size of most hollows renders them immune to everything but a head-on barrage. If that's where they've hidden themselves... it'll be difficult to access them."

Sportacus ran his tongue over his lips, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. "...how difficult?"

Ana mused silently over Sportacus's question for a minute, before she glanced towards him out of the corner of her eye. Tone grim, she answered, "Nothing is  _impossible_ , but trying to break  _into_ a hollow tree is tantamount to suicide, and we don't have the time to slowly whittle down their defenses. We need to lure the creature out into the open,  _and_ keep them from fleeing to some other part of the forest like they did the last time." Her gaze lingered on Sportacus for a moment, then flicked to the walls of the ship. "I don't suppose this ship is carrying heavy siege weaponry?" 

If Sportacus hadn't been keenly aware of the seriousness in Ana's question, he might've laughed at the idea of Loftskip ferrying an elvish armory around in her cupboards. "No... we have flare guns, my sports equipment, maybe a few road flares... Loftskip's flamethrowers were our strongest weapon, and we haven't had a chance to repair them yet." He managed a feeble grin. "To be honest, you and Robbie are the big guns right now." 

It looked as though Ana almost smiled, but it quickly became a grimace instead. "Be that as it may, the more tools we have at our disposal, the better. I'd suggest you pack anything and everything that you think we could use against them, if you haven't already," Ana said, craning her head upwards and squinting out the window. "And make it quick. We're nearly at the hollow."

Sportacus allowed himself a fleeting glance towards the forest and its dark, gargantuan trees before he tore himself away from the window and hurried to the back of the ship. The hull shuddered beneath his feet as Loftskip coasted down towards the forest, slowing to a snail's pace as she began circling above the treetops. The wind howling around the ship - fierce enough to make Sportacus shiver at the sound alone - became all the more pronounced as the engine quieted to a low purr. 

"Please tell me the reason you're digging around in that cabinet is because you're looking for an actual piece of winter clothing that _isn't_ a hoodie," Robbie muttered as Sportacus brushed past him to rummage through the back closet. His words were slightly muffled by the fleece turtleneck collar he'd pulled over the lower half of his face, leaving only his eyes exposed to stare at the back of Sportacus's head. 

Sportacus shrugged, pulling out a dusty bag of flares that hadn't seen use in years. "I don't mind the cold," he said, dumping out the flares onto the table. "Besides, I'm not as flexible in a heavy coat. I need to be mobile."

"I could _bubble wrap_ you and you'd still figure out a way to backflip everywhere you go," Robbie retorted, hunching into his turtleneck and crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned closer to the table. Raising an eyebrow at the flares, he asked, "Okay, isn't it a bit redundant to bring these things _and_ the guns?" He held up one of the flares and tugged his turtleneck down, blowing on the flare and stirring up a cloud of dust. "Are you sure these even still work?" 

"They're elvish design, they'll work. I just don't know what kind of effect they're going to have on the creature, if any at all," Sportacus said, shoving the flares into his backpack. "But like Ana said, they're not going to do us any good sitting up here."

Robbie shrugged. "Fair point," he mumbled, tugging the turtleneck back over his mouth just as the ship's door suddenly opened, giving way to a blast of frigid wind. Sportacus stiffened with a sharp gasp, skin crawling as the cold air rushed over his skin and brought a handful of errant snowflakes with it. Robbie sputtered and doubled over, biting out a string of curses before he raised his head and scowled at the tall silhouette now occupying the empty space where the door had been. "A little _warning_ next time would be nice!"

"My sincerest apologies, Robbie," Loftskip replied as she leaned out the door, barely disturbed by the winds battering against her form. "...There's an opening in the canopy. It looks clear," she called over her shoulder after a minute of scanning the forest. At the wave of her hand, a launch platform extended out from the door, and Loftskip began pulling the ship's ladder out from its hatch in the wall. Motioning to her companions, she indicated the ladder and said, "I can lower the three of you to the ground. If I see any reaction from the trees, I'll pull you up immediately." 

"Let me go first," Ana said, stepping up to the door and zipping her jacket up to her chin. She held out a hand towards Sportacus, effortlessly catching the backpack he tossed her way. Slinging it around her shoulders, she craned her head out the door, her hair immediately blown across her face by the wind. Her every movement was painstakingly deliberate as she worked her way out the door, taking a few cautious steps down the ladder runs as the wind shrieked around her.

The whole ship shuddered under the force of an unnervingly strong gust of wind as Ana disappeared down the ladder. Steeling himself to follow, Sportacus shrugged on his own backpack and headed towards the door, but he didn't make it more than two steps before Robbie gently grabbed his wrist and tugged him back around. Sportacus didn't have more than a moment to take in the mix of dull dread and nervous tension flooding Robbie's eyes before Robbie cupped a hand around the side of his head and pulled him into a deep, shivering kiss.

When they pulled apart a few breathless moments later, Robbie pressed his forehead to Sportacus's and whispered, "Be careful down there."

Sportacus smiled softly, leaning into the hand Robbie was still holding to his cheek. "You too." 

Robbie pursed his lips, drawing in a slow breath before he retrieved his hands and marched past Sportacus to the door. Sportacus tightened the straps of his backpack and followed a moment later, wind scraping against his skin as he stepped outside. Below him, Robbie hugged the rungs for dear life, burying his face in his shoulder and doing everything in his power to not look down.

As Loftskip began carefully lowering the ladder, Sportacus found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the forest. The gap in the canopy beneath them loomed wide and dark, and Sportacus felt a chill run down his spine. His one comfort was the crystal sitting restored on his chest, its warmth keeping out the worst of the cold, but not quite blocking out a sense of piercing dread.

Sportacus gripped the rungs of the trembling ladder until his knuckles turned white as they descended further into the forest.

The trees rose around them like the yawning maw of a monster - vast and ravenous - and slowly swallowed them whole.

 

* * *

 

When Ana set foot on the forest floor, she nearly staggered - not due to unsteady ground, or out of shock, but from the _heat_. It pressed around her like a second skin, damp and heavy to the point that it muffled her senses _._ She could feel it ebbing through the ground beneath her, felt it clotting in her throat like wet wool with every breath she took. The trees, the ground, the very air itself seemed to churn with humid, languid power.

Just like a living Court. 

She clenched her fists at her sides, keeping a steady eye on the trees surrounding the tiny clearing at the edge of the hollow. At her side, Robbie dropped with a thud to the bed of pine needles, stumbling and blinking dazedly at the forest. He bent over and braced his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. "Why is it so _warm??_  I get that it's the center of all the forest and whatever, but this is a _little_ excessive." 

"It's drawing power from the monster," Ana said, tone bristling with urgency. Hearing two more thuds, she glanced over her shoulder and swept her gaze over her companions. Loftskip seemed to be the only one immune to the heat, as Robbie stood looking like a wilting flower and Sportacus was halfway through shedding his hoodie and tying it around his waist. "We need to hurry. It won't be long until they realize we're here." 

"The forest, or the creature?" Sportacus wondered aloud, beads of sweat visible on his brow. 

"Either one."

Barely after the words had left Ana's mouth, the treetops overhead groaned.

Loftskip's head snapped back, her crystal flashing once, and the ladder reeled itself back into the ship with a sharp whine. Ana caught a glimpse of the uppermost branches slowly rising and scraping against the underside of the airship, just before the ship listed away from them and ascended out of sight. As the ship escaped, the boughs settled and wove themselves over the gap, snuffing out all but a few scattered patches of light.

Sportacus grimaced. "She's right. I don't think the ship will distract them for long, we need to move."

"Agreed, but it won't help if we charge in blind," Loftskip added. "If we split into pairs, we can scout the hollow without costing us too much time. Just... everyone stay within eyeshot of each other, at all times." 

"Yeah. Good. Sounds good," Robbie said, nodding hastily and tugging Sportacus by the sleeve towards the enormous trees ahead. "Can we get moving now?" 

"Be careful," Ana and Loftskip chorused. 

Sportacus nodded, falling into stride with Robbie and taking point as they proceeded towards the shallow, overgrown slope between the two nearest trees. Ana and Loftskip paused for only a heartbeat before following, dappled sunlight falling upon their backs, underbrush around them giving way to nothing but the ancient trees and gnarled roots of the Court hollow.

 

* * *

 

Upon entering the hollow, Robbie found himself missing the shrieking whistle of the wind that had been rattling the ship earlier. The only sound reaching his ears now was a low, omnipresent creaking, like a distant old rocking chair. His eyes kept locking onto movement from the canopy, acorns and small twigs tumbling softly to the hollow's pine-needle carpet. He couldn't tell how much of the movement was deliberate, or just a side affect of the hollow's decay - a decay which was almost painfully visible, every direction he looked.

"Do you remember this place at all?" Sportacus murmured, stepping over a fern-filled trench and holding out a hand to help Robbie across.

Robbie's eye twitched as he scrutinized the towering trees. "Not really. I just... I know there was _more_  here, last time. Sounds and lights, mostly. Living things. Living people." He glanced at the spruces dotting the crater; all of them were surrounded by sprawling thickets, dense with thorns and hiding tunnels that let deeper into the dark spaces behind the roots.

Craning his head back, Robbie squinted at the lower branches of the trees, all of them as wide as a city street. Supported atop them were what looked to be houses; curved, winding structures built from rattan and vines and and thin willow branches, with peeling birchbark roofs and empty windows overflowing with moss. Here and there on the branches, swaying in the breeze, hung pale orange and yellow lantern flowers that Robbie _knew_  used to shine with light, but now sat dark and listless. By all accounts, it looked just like a human ghost town, empty and disused and utterly abandoned.

Robbie just wished it _f_ _elt_  abandoned.

Gritting his teeth, he wiped his hand across his forehead, his palm coming back sticky with sweat that had slowly dripped down and blurred over his eyes. Blinking twice, Robbie tapped into his aura, and winced as his vision was flooded with the palimpsests of the forest's lingering magical power. Unlike the the frail watercolor auras lacing the trees in the outer forests, the auras of the hollow trees drenched their physical forms like hardened wax. Only a handful of cracks shone on every tree's decaying aura, oozing vibrant magic that shifted through the color spectrum so quickly it made Robbie dizzy to watch.

Grimacing, he blinked again and let the auras fade to invisibility. Sportacus leaned around his side, fixing on him with a worried look. "You okay?"

Robbie rubbed the bridge of his nose, side-eyeing the forest venomously. "You're lucky your crystal can watch the auras for you. That shit _hurts_."

Sportacus's eyes flicked to the trees. "How bad is it?"

"Could be worse, I think," Robbie said, keeping his voice low. "I'm pretty sure they haven't used their magic in a while, their auras are all stiff..." He swallowed uncertainly. "I don't have a damn clue how long that'll last, though."

"Any sign of _their_  auras?" Sportacus asked.

Robbie shook his head. He wasn't sure  _what_ combination of colors had been present in the nearby trees, but he was certain that the familiar crimson and deep, almost-black blue of the monster wasn't part of them. "No. Not yet."

Sportacus brushed his hand against Robbie, offering a halfhearted smile that made Robbie feel even warmer than the humid air in the hollow already did. "Come on, we just need to keep looking," he reassured. "We'll find them."

 

* * *

 

"Are they still harassing the ship?" Loftskip heard Ana ask behind her as she vaulted on top of a particularly dense pile of roots. 

Cocking her head to the side, Loftskip let her consciousness drift skywards, grazing against the bulk and inner mechanisms of the ship. For a moment she felt a phantom sensation of winds buffering her body, her movements sharp and precise, keeping low enough to the canopy to be available if needed, but out of reach of prying branches - and there were plenty of prying branches.

"Not aggressively," she answered, looking over to Ana. "Instinctual reactions from the trees, I think. Not a commanded assault."

Ana stepped up on the roots beside Loftskip, tilting her chin back as the golden threads woven through her tunic began to glow. "That's far from comforting," she intoned, cracking her knuckles and manifesting a few thin whips of magic that seemed to fade to nothingness, but left a barely perceptible hum of static energy in their wake that faintly shifted in tone with every move Ana made. She glanced towards Loftskip, her irises shifting from blue to gold for a fraction of a second. "Even if they haven't noticed us, they should've damn well noticed the ship by now. We'd have an advantage if the ship could distract them."

"I'd rather not put the ship at risk," Loftskip said. "Unless you'd like to try escaping the trees on foot." 

"Fair enough. Keep it close, in that case." Ana jumped down off the roots, striding out towards the more open section of the hollow; a clearing the size of the town square, covered in humps of springy moss and fern clusters. With so few roots exposed in the clearing, it was easier to see the scattered trenches, and Loftskip tailed behind Ana as they navigated the loose soil around the holes in the ground. A few dozen feet away, near the base of one of the hollow's larger trees, Sportacus and Robbie were still clearly in view, making their way over roots and examining the thickets. Loftskip kept an eye on them in her peripheral vision, but her attention was quickly diverted to the clearing when Ana cleared her throat and murmured grimly, "There it is."

Loftskip looked up, and she felt the energy in her chest buck against her corset, shrinking in on itself defensively as she took in the sheer immense scale of the hollow's largest tree. 

At first, she couldn't quite grasp its dimensions - she wasn't sure if she was looking at one tree or several. The base of its bole could have neatly occupied a small parking lot, with roots as thick as cars jutting up from the ground, overgrown with brambles. A curtain of moss draped down the trunk, creating strange shadows that might have been hollowed knots or gaping cavities cut through the entire trunk. Burls the size of boulders mottled the tree all the way up to its lowest branches, and as Loftskip followed the line of its boughs, she saw that they stretched through the low airspace above the clearing, choking out all but a few fractured rays of sunlight. 

The crown of the tree at first led Loftskip to assume it was an enormous willow, but its boughs were thick with spruce needles and pinecones, and its bark was striated with white and black and soft tan like a birch. Forks in its trunk, huge gashes between the branches, and the lichen climbing up its bark all gave the tree the impression of sustaining its own separate forest upon its surface.

While Loftskip stared, aghast, at the true hollow of the forest, Ana barely seemed to give it more than a glance of acknowledgement. "I'd forgotten how small it was," she murmured. "I'm surprised it lasted this long without a Court to give it strength."

Loftskip stared at the back of Ana's head as the woman slowly crossed another trench in the clearing. "This is a  _small_ hollow?"

Ana glanced back over her shoulder. Her tone was almost wistful as she said, "I've lived in hollows three times this size. They're beautiful things, regardless of the kind of monsters that inhabit them. But they wither." She cocked her head to the side, furrowing her brow as she returned her gaze to the tree. "They  _should_ wither, at least. Hollows are almost entirely carved out, we should be able to see-"

Several things happened, so fast that Loftskip couldn't say which happened first.

A deafening groan, like ice-coated trees exploding on Elvish mountains in the dead of the Northern winter, shattered the crater's quiet so forcefully it almost knocked Loftskip off her feet.

Overhead, the branches shifted and parted, raining down sunlight, pine cones, and needles like a hailstorm.

The ground shuddered beneath Loftskip's feet, and before her eyes, the trench right in front of Ana ripped itself open even further, dirt and sawdust exploding out of the cavity along with three thin, brambly vines, flailing in the air like snakes. Loftskip saw Ana's arms rise, fingers splaying and crackling gold, her eyes and mouth wide with a silent gasp of shock. 

Two of the brambles disintegrated in a flash of gold. 

The third darted forward and coiled around Ana's neck.

Her hands went to her throat, desperately trying to sever the vine's noose-like grip, but it only tightened and pulled taught and yanked her down to her knees. All Loftskip could hear was a frantic wheezing coming from between Ana's clenched teeth as the bramble dragged her towards the trench. Sputtering flashes of faint gold filled the air, none of them connecting with the bramble.

All they did was illuminate the dark red blood now staining the collar of Ana's tunic. 

And Loftskip's crystal began screaming.

 

* * *

 

Sportacus heard the distinct shriek of Loftskip's crystal a half-second before his own crystal began flashing. It let out a shrill whine, and all at once he both felt the ground shake, and saw the world wash away away before him, momentarily replaced by a vision of a woman gasping for breath, dragged to the ground by a root-like noose around her neck, all while the air around her was tainted a piercing gold.

Snapping himself out of the vision, Sportacus whipped around, eyes widening as he saw the clearing, and Loftskip, and the brambles colliding with Ana.

A moment later, Robbie saw it, too. In the corner of his eye, Sportacus saw Robbie go perfectly still, his eyes smoldering purple, and his wings burst out between his backpack straps. He sprinted forward, feet barely touching the ground, not paying attention to his surroundings as he screamed, " _Mom!!"_

"Robbie,  _watch out!!"_ Sportacus shouted.

Robbie skidded to a halt, head spinning  around in search of danger as a root thicker than his entire body burst out of the ground just to his left. Its shadow rapidly grew larger around him as Sportacus launched himself forward, pushing Robbie out of the way. Sportacus somersaulted across the ground after Robbie, the root slamming down just an few inches shy of his ankle.

_"Shit,"_ he heard Robbie cough behind him.

Sportacus rolled to a crouch beside Robbie as the half-fae pulled himself off the ground to his knees. Robbie shook his head, eyes refocusing and staring past Sportacus at the clearing. There was only a moment of dazed confusion before his wings stiffened and his expression morphed into pure panic. "You bastards, let her go!" he screamed, flinging his arms out, fingers outstretched, purple aura spilling out around his arms in ribbons.

Robbie's magic didn't get a chance to burn away the brambles. It didn't even have a chance to _reach_ Ana before a second tremor raced through the ground.

Sportacus's crystal shrieked and his vision flooded red.

There was something else in the vision, too. Something that felt as big as the trees, but - _faster_.

_Oh, gods-_

He dove down and wrapped his arms around Robbie, hoping his body would be enough to shield them. His eyes locked onto the hollow - dirt and moss falling away from its roots, a thunderous rumble echoing from somewhere within the trunk itself. Sportacus's crystal wailed, showing him a smattering of colors, all shifting over each other like the skin of a chameleon.

A few colors stood out. Two colors, crimson and blue-

The tree trunk groaned, and a gaping crack split directly up its center.

Then the bark of the base of the hollow shattered, wood shrapnel flying through the air, and the rumble became an all too familiar roar. 

 

* * *

 

Ana couldn't breathe.

The vine curled around her neck, nearly garroting her windpipe, driving dozens upon dozens of tiny sharp thorns into her skin- 

She clawed at the brambles as they dragged her to her knees, almost forcing her over the edge of the trench, threatening to pull her into gods knew how many more brambles, all ready to rend her flesh from her bones. She hadn't  _felt_ it, hadn't so much as heard the roots shifting in the ground, or sensed the way their auras were writhing beneath the surface of the moss. 

A smell rose from the trench before her, filling her nose and mouth in the absence of breath-

Rot and chlorine, ink and leather and mold and just the faintest touch of cinnamon.

Ana clutched the bramble, barely aware of the thorns slicing through her palms. Her vision went fuzzy, the sounds around her molding into a harsh white noise that only made her racing heartbeat seem that much louder. Her eyelids fluttered as she gasped for breath, inhaling nothing but wood dust and the sticky reek of some dying creature drenched in its own rotting blood and sweat and sap-

An arm wrapped around her shoulders, and a blurry hand moved in front of her face, seizing the bramble. With a deft twist, the hand ripped the bramble in two, and Ana staggered and fell backwards onto the ground. Her vision cleared just enough to make out a porcelain mask above her, the blue eyes staring down at her so bright their glow filled the eye sockets in the mask. 

Leather-bound fingers pried the limp brambles away from Ana's neck, and she sucked in a hoarse, gasping breath.

Loftskip framed Ana's face in her hands, brushing the hair away from her eyes, plucking out the thorns that had broken off in her skin. "Ana, Ana, breathe, please, just  _breathe-"_ The golem swept her eyes over Ana's neck, and Ana let out a weak hiss as Loftskip fumbled her thumb over what she was realizing were many dozens of cuts, all across her windpipe and the nape of her neck, all the way down to her clavicle. 

Ana's lip curled back in a grimace, and she struggled to sit up. She cupped a hand over Loftskip's wrist, croaking, "I'll be fine, Loftskip, there's-" 

The ground shook again, but no more brambles came climbing out of the trench.

Ana saw the wood splinters flying towards them before Loftskip did, and quickly lifted a bloody hand. This time her magic flowed free - the moss and dirt around them folded up in a half-dome, just enough to insulate them from the worst of the barrage.

The dome then crumbled, showering Ana and Loftskip in dirt and revealing the hollow once again as a guttural bellow filled the air.

Ana's hand shifted sluggishly up to her neck, her aura bending around her and staunching the bleeding on the surface wounds, but that was the most she could will her body to do. The rest of her couldn't do anything but stare in horror as a huge crack split the hollow at its center, winding halfway up the trunk, and the moss curtain fell apart in pieces at the base, torn to shreds by the shrapnel. The bark of the hollow buckled outwards, and the bellow only got louder, until Ana felt like she could hear it right next to her ear.

The hollow groaned, buckled, and burst. 

In a cloud of sawdust and bloody mist, a lopsided set of limbs spilled out from the tree - larger than Ana remembered. The bark on the skin was thicker, riddled with roots that pulsed like veins, the claws straining at the soft earth, carving gouges at the base of the hollow. Wrenching from side to side, a dark mass draped with lichens and fungal growths lurched out from the tree, shedding mulch with every motion. Leathery roots that throbbed like intestines emerged from beneath its hide, trailing back into the dark cavity of the hollow, slowly shifting over the surface of the creature's back and sides. The metallic tint of iron chains chafed beneath the roots, still wrapped tight around the creature's torso. 

There was a low, seething growl, and two heads wrestled their way out from behind layers of overlapping roots and brambles. Ana's stomach turned, seeing them snap to attention, staring down at the clearing. Strange green cilia bristled like the teeth of a flytrap along their necks, flaring in and out with every breath they took, and thin tentacle-stems tipped in glistening mucus lined the underside of their throats, all the way down to their chest and underbelly. 

Their faces were still the same. 

Glanni's dark hair and slitted dark eyes, his sharp-toothed sneer. Íþróttaálfurinn's putrid tongue, too big for his jaws, lolling uselessly outside his mouth. A red glow spread out around them, from the crystal jutting out of their back, their sides - it looked bigger, like a geode now. And the _wings - Glanni's_  wings were still there, barely visible, too weak to even flutter-

Ana's wards tugged at the back of her mind, screaming -  _run._

Their too-long limbs stretched out in front of them, clawing at the ground, their body slumping low and hunched. Both heads snarled, but the elf's hung almost limp, his eyes slowly scanning the clearing. It was Glanni's face that fixed on Ana and Loftskip, Glanni's eyes that narrowed and seemed to stare straight through Ana's head. And it was Glanni's voice she heard.

 _"Get,"_ the creature rasped, its voice tainted with flecks of a different accent, a different tone, but still unmistakably  _Glanni,_ "gget  _outtt."_

The blood ran cold in Ana's veins.

The monster reared its body back, straining against the roots that bound it to the hollow, still screeching in Glanni's voice-

_"GO AWAAAY!!"_

The roots strained to their breaking point.

"Gods help us," Ana heard Loftskip whisper, arms tightening around Ana as her legs tensed to run.

There was a terrifying  _snap,_ and a few of the roots broke away from the monster, and this time it roared with both its voices. 

Ana's nose filled with the smell of chlorine and cinnamon.

And the air in the hollow crackled and turned crimson and blue. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HHHHHHHHHHH I'm sorry this took sooooooooooo long to write (that seems to be a trend with the last couple of chapters, sadly). Holiday season bombarded me with things to do and I got caught up in several different projects at once... went to Canada for a weekend, had to deal with work being hectic due to snowstorms, and a whole plethora of various other distractions. I basically had to sit myself down and muscle through this chapter out of sheer spite for the idea of leaving it unfinished. (And because this story is now officially considered draft one of a new project that I will work on come 2018).
> 
> Speaking of finishing, I anticipate the remainder of this story only taking two more chapters after this, so I hope y'all stay tuned! 
> 
> And of course, MERR CRIMMAS
> 
> #
> 
> PS, for those of you interested in that short story blog I mentioned, you can find it on [Turn Loose The Library](https://turnloosethelibrary.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy April Fool's; you don't get just one chapter today, you get TWO!

As soon as she heard the roots snap, Loftskip hiked Ana up to her chest and sprang backwards, not caring if she landed on her feet or her back - all her energy in that split second went into putting any amount of distance between them and the monster. As soon as she moved, the moss around the trench crumbled away, and a fresh tangle of brambles snapped up at her feet.

Before the brambles could reach her, the ground yanked itself forward, a sheet of moss and mulch flooding into the trench and burying the tendrils. Loftskip twisted away sharply, shielding Ana as her body impacted against the ground in a spray of dirt. When she hit, something caught her peripheral vision - a faint glimmer of purple sparkling in the moss. She rolled her head back and found herself staring at Robbie, leaning heavily on his knees, one arm outstretched with his fingertips sputtering with wisps of fading magic. 

Robbie's eyes narrowed in a pained wince, his hands clenching and tugging towards his chest. The pine needles and dirt surrounding them swirled into a dense curtain, briefly cutting them off from the monster. Dropping his arms, Robbie scrambled to Loftskip and pressed a hand against his mother's cheek, eyes scanning her worriedly. "Shit, Mom, are you - are you okay??"

Ana rubbed her bruised throat. "I'll be fine," she rasped.

Sportacus crouched low to the ground beside Robbie, his eyes fixed on whatever lay over Loftskip's shoulder. He didn't seem to notice or care about the tiny lacerations all across his arms and face, or the splinters of wood still stuck in his hair and clothes. "We need to  _move_ ," he urged. 

"We  _need,"_  Ana coughed, "to get them away from the hollow."

"We're sitting ducks staying here!" Sportacus hissed under his breath, anxiously craning his head to try and see around Robbie's shield. "We have to-"

"We need to split up," Loftskip interrupted, legs tensed to run. "Robbie, Ana, you can cast from a distance. Can you keep them distracted?"

Robbie's brow furrowed. "Then what are you two-" He cut himself off with a gasp, and his head snapped to attention towards the clearing. The ground rumbled beneath them, and the sound of twigs snapping flanked them on all sides. "Screw it, just go!!" Robbie shouted.

Loftskip paused only to lock eyes with Sportacus. She tipped her head skywards, gesturing up to the canopy with a single finger.

She waited until he nodded back, and she rocked forward onto her toes and sprinted towards the trees.

 

* * *

 

Ana didn't have more than a moment to question Loftskip's decision to run for the nearest thicket. Any confusion vanished from her mind as Loftskips skidded into the side of the tree, holding out a hand that Sportacus used to springboard himself onto the trunk with arms outstretched.

Together they climbed the tree, vanishing around the far side of the trunk in the span of seconds and leaving Ana and Robbie to fend for themselves below. 

Standing slowly, Ana laid a hand on Robbie's shoulder. She felt him tense at her touch, his magic coursing under his skin and crackling on contact with Ana's wards. They exchanged a silent glance, and Robbie's hands twitched. The purple lines interlacing his shield faded, and the dirt fell in a cloud around them, leaving them open and exposed before the monster.

Robbie stiffened beside Ana, hands curling to fists at his sides.

A cold wind rushed across Ana's skin.

Across the trench-riddled clearing, Glanni lifted his head, and stared them down with a bloody-toothed snarl.

 

* * *

 

A wheeze rattled in their throat.

**_Gold-_**

She was  _there._

A violent need bucked in their chest, a hunger that wasn't theirs alone, not anymore. Her aura and the auras around her flickered rapidly in and out of visibility, blinding one second and leaving a burning afterimage on their eyes the next. Just the sight and scent of her seemed to lighten the crushing ropes of roots and vines choking their limbs and throat. 

They needed  _her_  strength,  _her_  fury to chase away the dark-

There was more of the dark than there was  _them,_  now. They could barely hear their other half anymore, but they could feel their arms and their head listlessly hanging off their body, exhausted and suffocating beneath layers and layers of moss and bark and parasitic fungal growths. All their thoughts bounced back without reply, echoing off the insides of the vast hollow jaws hovering around their skull-

It was worse than the gnawing pain of the iron scalding into their skin, and the crystal that wouldn't stop  _screaming-_

She was there. 

She was there and she could chase away the dark.

_**I can fix this - I can fix us-**_

Silence.

They bristled, the overgrown needles on their throat and underbelly humming with a slow-growing wave of energy.

**_Gold - Ana - come back - come back-_**

They bellowed and pushed through the roots and charged across the clearing.

 

* * *

 

"Mom."

Ana hushed Robbie under her breath, and he clamped his mouth shut. His wings flared up around his shoulders, batting the air just as frantically as the wings adorning the monster. His heart hammered in his chest, and he could only keep himself quiet for a second or two before he looked back down at his mother. She crouched on one knee, both hands pressed flat to the ground, the stoic expression on her face unwavering even as the creature let out a raspy roar and strained against the roots holding them down. 

" _Mom-!"_

"Not yet!" Ana hissed. 

The remaining roots binding the monster's overgrown limbs wore thin. They splintered and frayed, some pulling up out of the dirt altogether, some snapping in two under the force of the monster's berserk thrashing. Even at this distance, Robbie could make out reddish spittle foaming at the edges of Glanni's mouth, his throat and chest heaving for breath. The monster's rage was palpable in the air, a static hum that washed over Robbie like a sudden heatwave. 

Robbie's breath hitched.

The monster charged.

" _Now,_ Robbie!" Ana shouted, golden lightning racing across the mossy ground from her hands.

Robbie grit his teeth and zeroed in on one of the huge chunks of bark the creature had torn away from the hollow. His dormant fae instincts took over, his magic sinking into the cracks in the fragmented aura that saturated the wood. Cords of purple energy enveloped the heavy bark, and with both arms extended, Robbie twisted his wrists and yanked the bark through the air.

The monster hadn't made it more than two steps before the bark slammed into its side, throwing it off balance.

In that same split second, Ana's magic reached the dirt beneath its feet, prying open one of the clearing's smaller trenches. A guttural screech filled the air, and Robbie flinched out of habit, his magic rebounding and stinging up his arms as he unintentionally blinked and lost concentration. By the time his vision readjusted, the monster was slipping headfirst into the widening gap in the earth, a leg and two arms vanishing and a hand wildly grabbing at the edge of the trench.

Its elbow dislocated with an audible popping sound, but its claws sank into the roots at the edge and held firm. Atop its back, the blue wings beat the air frantically, stirring up a cloud of shed butterfly scales and sawdust. The back legs twisted against the soft moss, fleshy lichen-coated tail sluggishly twitching from side to side as a hissing snarl rose from the trench.

Robbie's fingertips crackled purple. He hunched forward next to Ana, breaths coming short and quick. The creature thrashed and heaved backwards, dirt falling down into the trench around it. For the moment it was distracted, but Robbie had a sinking feeling that it wouldn't take long for it to climb back out. 

His eyes flicked upwards to the canopy.

_Your turn._

 

* * *

 

 

Sportacus scaled the tree with a burst of wild energy, his claws sunk deep into the wood and his shoes planted firmly into thin crevices in the bark. He followed Loftskip up to the branches, keeping to the shadow of the huge humps of moss nestled in the enormous fork of the trunk. Crouching on all fours, he braced as the roots tore through the thicket below, his pulse roaring in his head as adrenaline flooded his veins.

"This way," Loftskip whispered, tilting her head towards the outstretched branches. Sportacus nodded, waiting until the shuddering of the tree had stopped before he moved after her. She edged out onto the nearest branch that extended over the clearing, her body low and limbs splayed out like a lizard as she maneuvered around the abandoned fairy huts. The only sound either of them made was the soft shifting of fabric, or the clinking of metal and plastic in their backpacks.

There was a steady throbbing at the base of Sportacus's skull, ebbing up from his crystal; a constant reminder of the dulled, but still largely intact forest auras that surrounded him on all sides. His wards tensed if he moved too close to a certain part of the branch, and keeping to the neutral ground took more effort than Sportacus had anticipated.

The effort paid off, for the moment. No roots or vines came snaking around the branches in pursuit of Sportacus or Loftskip.

All the hollow's attention was concentrated on the clearing down below.

Loftskip held out a hand, stopping Sportacus in his tracks. Looking up, he realized they'd come to the end of their branch, and a few feet away, one of the other tree's boughs almost overlapped theirs. Loftskip leaned over the branch, taking a moment to observe the clearing, and without warning she sprang across the gap to the other tree. As she landed, she motioned for Sportacus to follow, pressing a finger to the space on her mask where lips would be.

Biting the inside of his lip, Sportacus inched forward. The wood creaked beneath him, shaking ever so slightly - in time with a loud roar that felt like it was right in his ear.

The sound of the roar raced up Sportacus's spine, prompting him to action. His legs tensed and released, and he leaped for the branch, his claws digging in so deeply he felt wood splinters press against the undersides of his fingers. The branch wobbled up and down, groaning under their weight, but it didn't break.

Grimacing, Sportacus turned slowly to face Loftskip, crouching with one hand in front of the other on the rail-thin branch. Loftskip was standing on the balls of her feet with dancer-like grace, one foot pressing lightly on a green shoot growing out of the bough. She swayed with every shudder of the branches, never losing her balance as she stared down at the clearing.

Sportacus craned his head up, eyeing the ground below, and his heart skipped a beat as he realized just how close they were to the monster. Another fifteen feet, and they'd be right on top of it.

"Oh, gods," he whispered, his stomach turning at the sight of the monster. It seemed to be more plant than flesh, now; sap-bleeding roots covered its hide like a second skin, wrapped tight around bulging abscesses. The flytrap spines lining the creature's two faces twitched with every heaving breath they took, and the bark lining their arms slowly disintegrated to spores and sawdust as they lopsidedly sagged against the ground.

Worse still, with every move they made - with every flap of dead skin or moss dislodged in their attempts to pull away from the hollow's roots - the crystal on their back let out sputtering flashes of rich red energy. Fragments of Íþró's crystal jutted out of the monster's backbone and sides at odd angles, all of them emanating an erratic glow. Sportacus's crystal keened helplessly at the sight.

"...Loftskip," Sportacus breathed, voice thick with dread, "they're losing control."

"I can see that," she replied grimly.

They stared for another moment in horror-stricken silence before the momentary stillness was fractured by the sound of roots snapped, and the monster's hoarse roar. All the monster's limbs strained at once, and the roots binding it tore up out of the ground, and it lunged across the clearing.

Sportacus's heart leaped to his throat.

Before the monster could reach the fairies on the ground, a wave of golden magic pried apart the earth directly beneath the tree. The monster couldn't stop itself from falling into the trap with a furious shriek. Its back end flailed wildly as its head and arms skidded down the steep slope of the trench, and Sportacus caught sight of the chains, slick with mucus and blood.

Loftskip spotted them, too. Her body stiffened for a fraction of a second, and the lights in her eyes narrowed to pinpricks.

"Sportacus," she ordered, "stay here."

He balked. "What??"

"You know prolonged exposure to iron can kill a fairy," she snarled, unexpected malice in her tone. It didn't take long for Sportacus to realize it was directed inward. "I didn't - I had no idea those chains were still bound to them." She afforded Sportacus a side glance. "You're not skilled at manipulating iron. Stay up here and keep watch. Be my backup." Her crystal let out a soft hum, and Sportacus could feel it in his bones - a subtle plea that made his chest ache. "I did this to them. I can fix it."

Sportacus clenched his jaw, stifling the arguments sitting on the tip of his tongue. "Fine," he said.

Loftskip nodded, her shoulders relaxing in a brief show of gratitude, but they quickly tensed again as she leaned forward. Her claws flexed and glowed off-white blue, and she pitched forward off the branch and plummeted towards the ground.

 

* * *

 

Ana saw the blue-and-black silhouette fall from the branches.

She also saw Glanni's head slowly rise out of the trench, blackish saliva dripping from between his teeth. His bloodshot eyes swept across the clearing and landed directly upon her, and narrowed.

Ana glared right back.

"That's right," she whispered, standing tall and extending both arms to her sides, her palms burning gold. "Eyes on me."

The monster snarled, and Ana's fingers twitched, just the slightest bit.

Her aura shot up from the ground, coiled around the monster's body, and pulled them back down. 

 

* * *

 

Loftskip impacted on the ground just a few feet away from the creature with a force that would've shattered the shin bones on a flesh-and-blood person. The cloth of her legs crumpled as she dropped to all fours, catlike and perfectly still as she waited to see if she'd been noticed. The monster's tail thrashed in her direction, and she dodged with a roll, coming to a halt shoulder to thigh against one of the creature's hindquarters. 

A flash of gold arced up from the trench, and the monster's body contorted and fell heavily to the side, away from Loftskip. As it fell, she darted forward and hauled herself up onto the roots overlapping on the monster's hide. Her feet sank into putrid, soggy tissue, and her wards recoiled from the presence of the creature's aura, but whatever wards the creature possessed didn't lash out against her. 

Roots shifted visibly beneath the moss around the monster, and it heaved bodily from side to side as it tried to crawl away from the gold and purple barrages of energy being thrown its way, but nothing - no roots, no butterflies - came for Loftskip. 

_Steady,_ she reminded herself, perching precariously on the monster's body.  _Steady-_

Using pieces of scabbed skin and bark as handholds, Loftskip scaled the creature's side, leaning with its writhing and freezing still each time the fae's head perked up. She could feel its frantic heartbeat through its hide, rapid and stuttered. As she climbed up to its back, she suffered a moment of distraction, seeing the fragments of crystal jutting from the creature's flesh. They resembled shards of frozen blood, slashed through with blackened veins like the ones she'd seen marring Robbie and Ana's arms after a risky expenditure of magic-

And the chains.

The crystals, Loftskip could ignore for the moment. But not the chains.

Woven around the crystal shards and through the roots and moss, the iron actively cauterized the skin beneath it, raw chafe marks lingering as evidence that the creature had already tried and failed to break free. The creature's muscles bulged around the chains, flesh bluish-gray and swollen where the circulation was getting cut off. Loftskip had no way of knowing how deep the iron infection had spread through their body, if it had reached their organs or their bones-

Loftskip didn't hesitate for even a second before she seized the closest chains, ripping them away from the monster. 

White smoke seeped out through her fingers, and the iron melted in her palm. The links snapped away slowly, metallic residue staining the moss and the thin-stretched skin of the creature's backbone and abnormally spaced ribs. 

Loftskip was so deeply focused on the chains that she didn't have time to brace herself before a deafening screech echoed through the air, and the monster reared up and out of the trench. Loftskip's crystal let out a shrill wail of warning, and all she could do was cling to the creature as it heaved across the trench, arms clawing at the ground and legs splaying apart as it pushed itself off the ground. Loftskip could only just barely see Glanni's head, reddish mist venting between his teeth, the disorientation from Ana and Robbie's attacks clearly wearing off.

As the monster pulled itself fully out of the trench, and shook the dirt from its shoulders, Loftskip's whole body went stiff with alarm.

She'd underestimated the growth of the plants on the monster's body - the way the added mass distorted its limbs, its shoulders _._ Worse, she'd been so preoccupied with keeping out of Glanni's sight that she'd forgotten - for just a handful of minutes - about the other head.

There was a raspy groan, and a sucking sound like a heavy mass being dredged from a pool of mud.

Then the shoulders shifted, and a pair of bloodshot elvish eyes swiveled around and fixed directly on Loftskip.

 

* * *

 

They almost alerted their other half.

Almost.

They felt the absence of the iron first - the waning of the itch, a brief lull in their crystal's hoarse wailing. Then, as they finally freed themselves from the trench, they felt something clinging to their body, a foreign weight they almost mistook for more of the moss and roots. But where roots sat heavy and choking, this thing  _moved_.

It was their crystal - or whatever was left of it - that sensed the new parasite's aura.

They snapped their head around, teeth bared despite the pain in their skull and jaws.

**Go - go AWAY-**

There was a moment before their magic reacted, a moment they hesitated upon seeing the creature on their back. A moment of gratitude for their other half's drowning-out screeching, the distant, furious mantra of  ** _come-back-Ana-help-need-stop-STOP-ANA-_**

The off-white aura was familiar.

That white and gold-flecked mask - they  _knew_.

A memory surfaced through the fog; warmth without a heartbeat, comfort without a smile.  _Safety_  in walls of white.

Not claws, not plumes of fire - hands. Her hands, holding theirs -  _his_.

_His-_

His home, his  _ship_ -

His eyes narrowed on her form, and she met his gaze with two points of bright blue-

His snarl faded from his lips, a grimace taking its place. The mass of tissue and bile and his throat barely let him breathe, let alone speak, and yet-

The words came with a wheeze.

"Llofff...  _shghhhh_... shhh _kip_....?"

* * *

 

"...shhhkip?"

She froze, hands gripping the chains so hard they bent under the pressure even without the touch of magic. There was a clarity in Íþró's eyes that hadn't been there a moment ago - a flicker of recognition in his changing expression and garbled speech. Her crystal sensed it. Her wards sensed it.

And the rest of the monster still hadn't noticed her.

Warily, Loftskip inched across the vines, testing Íþró's reaction. He watched her like a cornered animal, words slurred by his swollen tongue. "Shhk... kip...  _helggh_..."

Loftskip's crystal ached. "Íþró..."

His eye twitched, and his head cocked to the side - though Loftskip couldn't tell if that was intentional, or just a byproduct of the exhaustion she knew was plaguing him. Each haggard, wheezing breath and the limp dragging of his half of the monster's limbs spoke to immense fatigue, and maybe something worse.

"Shkkggip-"

Íþró's eyes suddenly went wide. The monster's body trembled, and Loftskip had to cling to its hide with all her strength to keep from being thrown off. The monster's front limbs reared back off the ground, save for two that hung limp like broken twigs, and a roar sounded in Glanni's voice.

The monster slammed its arms into the ground.

In the corner of her eye, Loftskip saw the creature's crystals all light up at once.

There was a second of stillness, and then a shockwave of dust and red mist and roots erupted around the creature.

 

* * *

 

The threads of Robbie's magic that had been harassing the monster were blown to shreds when they released the shockwave. His breath hitched in his throat, and in the span of seconds his vision was overwhelmed by a dark mound of roots and dirt. It rippled across the clearing so fast that Robbie didn't have time to even consider running.

His aura reached out in a panic, calling out to any debris it could affect - rocks, moss, clumps of clay beneath the dirt, anything it could put between Robbie and the surging mass of roots. His wings and legs crumpled, and he instinctively covered his head with his arms, desperately hoping that his magic would be strong enough to prevent the roots from tearing him to pieces.

The wave bore down upon him until it was all he could see.

The ground shuddered again, and Robbie's whole body seized up, bracing for impact-

Suddenly something brightened the dark mass; a burst of burning gold.

It burned until it was blinding, forcing Robbie to close his eyes - but not before he saw an arc of golden energy explode in front of him and cleave the roiling roots in two.

 

* * *

 

Her first instinct should've been to protect herself.

Instead, when she saw the shockwave, the  _roots_... it must have been the forest, the old familiar ground bringing out those long-suppressed instincts. As the roots came bursting out of the ground, laced with bolts of red and blue magic - a seething energy stirred in the pit of her stomach, climbing up to her hands before she could stop herself.

No - not quite before.

She could have stopped herself.

But on the edge of her vision, she saw Robbie - his magic gathering debris to himself, a web of purple threads pulling around him in a desperate attempt to shield himself. She knew - she  _knew_  - the roots wouldn't stop. They'd tear and they'd  _tear_  until they'd cut his wards to ribbons and they wouldn't stop until they had her  _son_ in their grasp-

Ana could have stopped herself.  _Should_  have stopped herself.

But she stood firm against the onslaught of roots and felt her blood boil over with fire. 

She slammed her palms together and sent out a tidal surge of magic that burned through the roots like a flame through paper.

The remaining roots raced past and around Ana and Robbie, before they crumbled uselessly to the ground, their magic and momentum exhausted. Across the clearing, as the dust cloud settled, Ana saw that same exhaustion carry over to the creature. Their whole body sagged, spittle and blackish bile oozing past Glanni's teeth, iridescent dust shivering in a cloud around his head. 

Ana grimaced. She knew that fatigue - knew what it felt like, to turn herself inside out to find every last scrap of magic hiding in her body. She staggered backwards, suddenly short of breath. Her vision went blurry, and a splitting pain prickled up the back of her skull, followed by the feeling of something hot dribbling down from her nose. 

Ana rubbed her hand over her upper lip.

Her knuckles came back stained with red. 

 

* * *

 

The strength left their body in an instant.

_**No - no no no no ANA NO-**_

Bile welled up in their throat, stifling their scream, but their thoughts ran wild, ricocheting off the walls of their other half's mind - walls that shouldn't  _be there-_

_**Hhhelp it burns it burns it burns we need to get up we need - we need - we need-**_

They needed strength. 

They needed  _power._

There was power in them, still - where half of them was silent, their magic suffocating beneath flesh and bark and moss, there were vestiges of their energy, dotting the ridges of their back. Scattered, halfway detached from their aura, but  _there_  all the same. They touched against the edges of the parasite auras lodged in their skin, found a power within reach-

The power glittered crimson in their mind. It tried to resist for all of a moment, then strained to its breaking point, and gave in.

It didn't matter if their other half refused to give over their strength. They'd take what they needed. They'd take it from the roots, they'd take it from the trees, they'd take it from the blood-red gems on their back-

_**I won't-** _

**_I won't let us die - I won't let us die - I won't let us-_ **

****

* * *

 

Loftskip's peripheral vision flooded gold, and she only had a second to acknowledge it before her crystal shrieked a warning, and the monster's legs gave out beneath it. The panic that'd been briefly subdued by Ana's overwhelming display came racing back, and all at once her wards alerted her to so many threats that she couldn't keep track of which came from where-

The rapidly approaching ground, and the creature's aura seemingly  _imploding-_

A sound like shattering glass-

It all happened so fast that Loftskip couldn't jump away in time. 

The monster fell, a flailing arm knocking Loftskip down with it, forcing her to lose her grip on the chains. All the  creature's weight crushed her legs, pinning her between moss and flesh on one side and moss and soil on the other. She bit out a guttural yell, phantom pain shooting through her body sharp branches punctured the cloth of her shins. Her hands sank into the porous tissue, desperate to try and push the creature off of her, but she hadn't a hope of so much as  _budging_  it-

The limbs flanking her on either side gouged their claws through the dirt, spraying her with dust and mulch. Loftskip was terrified that one set of claws would find  _her_  next, but the arms suddenly buckled. As they gave out, a shadowed segment of the creature's upper torso collapsed, slumping down right beside Loftskip with a breathy wheeze. 

Loftskip's eyes widened. "Íþró??"

The elf's head slowly turned her way, glassy eyes struggling to focus on her. "Sshgkip -  _shkk-"_

All of a sudden, Íþró doubled over with a gasping cough. His eyes bulged out of his skull, and Loftskip recoiled as black sludge the consistency of tar poured out of Íþró's mouth. The viscous liquid clung to his lips and dribbled down his throat, and he retched again, choking on something that might've been his own tongue-

Loftskip thought it would stop, after the first few seconds.

It didn't. 

She could barely hear him breathing anymore as he tried to expel the oily bile, his arms quivering and eyes darting back and forth in wild terror. 

Loftskip sank her hands into the dirt, trying to pull herself even a few inches closer to the shuddering elf-creature. The monster's body shifted, and she managed to yank one leg free, straining towards Íþró and almost completely forgetting the rest of the world around her. All she could see was the elf -  _her_ elf, or what was left of him - struggling to breathe, black liquid clogging his throat and black veins creeping up the sides of his neck-

Without thinking, she reached out as far as she could and touched Íþró's cheek. 

His skin was feverishly hot, almost burning.

"Íþró-" Loftskip gasped, "Íþró,  _hetja,_ please - stay, stay with me-"

Another spasm wracked his body; another stream of regurgitated tissue gushed from his mouth. 

Loftskip's eyes locked onto the flecks of red in the bile - like shards of glass.

_No - no, that's not glass-_

She turned her head just enough to catch a glimpse of the red crystals on the creature's back. Their glow was gone, and instead of pure, solid red, they were chipped and splintered, infused with a shade of blackish-blue that had sapped the color and power right out of them. 

She felt Íþró's head press into her hand. When she looked back at him, his eyes were meeting her gaze.

"Sghhgkip-" he slurred, " _hgg - hhelp-"_

Loftskip's chest tightened. A bitter cold washed over her, centered at her crystal. Vestiges of her vision flickered at the corners of her eyes, hammering in the sickening realization that while the monster was still strong enough to fight, her elf was barely strong enough to keep himself alive.

"Hold on," she whispered. "Hold on. I'm getting you out of here, I promise-"

Loftskip had no way of knowing if he'd understood, or if he'd even heard her words at all. 

Steeling herself, Loftskip turned away from her elf, shutting out the sounds of his choked breathing. She needed to get free, and she needed to  _stop_  the creature - and just out of her reach were the means by which she could do that.

Pushing herself up with one arm and her unpinned leg, Loftskip twisted her torso around as far as the fabric would allow. She stretched her arm as far as she could, but her fingers grasped at empty air, the nearest chains lying just a few inches beyond her grasp.

"Come  _on_ ," she hissed, "come on-"

_Closer - just a bit closer-_

Thin lines of magic raced up her sleeve. The cotton threads stretched until they were taught, and began to fray. The sleeve pulled itself apart, piece by piece, blindingly white energy seeping out through the gaps. Letting out a clipped snarl, Loftskip twitched her fingers, and her claws flickered into existence, giving her another half inch upon the inches of tearing fabric of her arm.

Her crystal screamed at the leaking magic, incapable of telling the difference between a wound and a dire necessity. Pain bloomed first in Loftskip's chest and then her arm, intensifying only as she strained to reach-

Her fingers grazed metal.

Time seemed to slow.

_Forgive me, Glanni-_

Her magic turned into lightning and surged through the chains.

 

* * *

 

Robbie's eyes had barely gotten a chance to readjust after that blinding wave of golden energy before there was a flash of electricity around the monster, brighter and louder than a thunderstorm. Static crackled through the air, setting his teeth on edge, and a smokey haze swirled around the creature as its whole body seized under the force of the lightning arcing across its body. 

It let out a bloodcurdling scream, arms curling to its chest, tails and legs thrashing helplessly. A second series of pure white lightning bolts coursed up its side, and it heaved violently away from the searing energy, falling with a dull  _thud_. As it fell, Robbie caught sight of a blurry blue and black silhouette through the smoke, climbing her way up the creature's body.

The figure waved an arm, and the smoke cleared. Her voice bellowed across the clearing, equally as loud as the monster had been.

"Ana!! Robbie!! Help me keep them down!!"

Robbie's brow furrowed. There was something strange about the way Loftskip was standing - hunched, shoulders flexed, hands curled to fists and held up by her chest. As he shakily stood and crossed the clearing towards her, he quickly realized she was holding a mass of chains in her hands, looped over her arms and crackling with electricity.

Robbie hesitated, at a loss for words to say.  _Why, what, and how_ came to mind, but nothing found its way to his tongue.

His mother wasn't quite so wordless. He heard her footfalls first, rapidly approaching from behind him, and a moment later she brushed past him, coming to a wary halt right beside the writhing creature. "Loftskip, what are you-?!"

"Just help me!!" Loftskip snarled.

The creature bucked, an arm snapping out towards Ana. She jumped out of the way, leaving the claws to scrape at empty air. Her magic coiled around her wrist, bending the passive roots around the creature to bind its flailing arms for the moment. Up atop the creature, Loftskip tightened her grip, sending another pulse of her own magic through the chains. The creature let out a ragged screech, and fell limp, breaths coming out quick and hoarse.

Some of the breaths sounded worse than the others, Robbie suddenly noticed. Weak, wheezy, like the creature was choking.

Loftskip pulled the chains taught and tied them into a knot at the creature's back, keeping a grip on one chain as she slid down to the ground. Robbie could only stare as she pushed one of the creature's arms aside, exposing a bony shoulder and a neck coated in branches and green shoots and twitching stems. At the end of it hung a limp head, covered in blonde hair that reminded Robbie entirely too much of Sportacus.

Those gasping breaths, he realized, were coming from Íþró.

Robbie's eyes went wide. Ana stiffened beside him with an sharp breath. Loftskip cupped her hands to Íþró's face, framing his black-bile soaked lips and bloodshot eyes, and without looking up from him, she whispered, "Glanni has to wait. He's - the creature is sapping Íþró's strength too fast." Glancing up at Robbie and Ana, Loftskip pointed at the creature's back, and the dull red crystals jutting out of it. 

" _Shit,"_  Robbie breathed, recognizing the black veins within the crystals. 

"He  _will_  die." The urgency in Loftskip's tone didn't allow for argument. "We need to separate them  _now."_

The creature - or the parts of it that belonged to Glanni - thrashed against the chains, and Íþró sagged into Loftskip's hands, shivering uncontrollably. Robbie exchanged a glance with Ana, and reflected in her eyes was the same flicker of shame that'd welled up in Robbie's chest at the sight of Glanni writhing beneath the iron. All of Robbie's instincts fought against the idea of leaving Glanni to suffer a moment longer in that poisoned metal, but one look at Loftskip and Íþró cemented the reality of the situation in Robbie's mind.

Ana's hands clenched at her sides. She drew in a deep breath, and grit her teeth. The only reply she gave to Loftskip was a quick nod, and she turned her gaze to the bulk of the thrashing monster. She lifted her hands, palms facing towards the ground, and the thin roots around her feet stirred to life.

Robbie's eyes darted to Loftskip. "What can I do??"

"Help your mother," Loftskip ordered. "Do  _not_ let Glanni get free." 

Robbie moved to do the same, even as his aura shrank away from the presence of the monster, but the sound of Loftskip quietly speaking stopped him. "Robbie," she said lowly, "I need your help."

He swallowed uncertainly, eyes darting between Loftskip and the wilting remnants of Íþró. "What do you need?"

Loftskip knelt down on the ground, carefully shifting her hands to support Íþró's head. "Do whatever you can to keep Glanni's magic away from us, if it tries to stop me." 

Robbie's heart skipped a beat. "But-"

The creature twisted, shoving itself upwards, strength clearly returning to its body. Loftskip's eyes locked onto Robbie in desperation. " _Please,_  Robbie!"

At that, he clamped his mouth shut. His wards still protested, but he forced himself to push past their hesitation, and laid a wary hand against the monster's hide. He could feel its pulse racing, even from beneath the layers of moss and skin, and the oppressive heat seeping from its body was making him sweat, but Robbie grit his teeth, blinked twice, and slipped into his aura sight.

All at once the world around him faded, and his vision flooded with crimson and blue.

 

* * *

 

Loftskip waited and watched as Robbie placed his hand on the creature. He blinked, and for a moment he stood perfectly still. 

Then his body went ramrod straight, his arms wings locking in place as he let out a sharp gasp. His wide eyes stared into space, a purple film clouding his pupils. He slowly ran his tongue over his lips, words clipped as he said, "Okay - okay. There's - just red. Just his aura around him - I think." The monster struggled aggressively, and Robbie's face contorted in a pained grimace. "...whatever you're gonna do, do it fast."

Loftskip acknowledged with a nod, and turned back to Íþró. He squirmed against her hands, every breath increasingly hoarse, eyes still failing to focus on any part of his surroundings. Wet sounds that might've been words bubbled at his lips, snuffed out by the bile. One hand reached for Loftskip's chest, claws scraping against her corset so weakly they didn't even make a dent. 

The screeching of the creature's other half faded to a dull roar as Loftskip rubbed her thumb over Íþró's cheek and whispered, "I can't afford to be gentle, Íþró. Just stay awake - stay awake,  _please_." 

She turned her gaze from Íþró's face, and flexed her fingers. Her claws emerged, their glow dancing across the scarred tissue and moss. Loftskip let her aura sink into her arms, and pushed her hands into the flesh and roots that bound Íþró to Glanni. The moment her fingertips came into contact with Íþró's wards, she felt the sensation of a hundred tiny teeth biting into her arms, but she pressed forward, her magic cutting through his, a shroud of white overtaking the fragmented red.

She could feel his aura, feel  _him_  - layers upon layers, knots of energy and sinew and bone and blood. The monster became a silhouette, with flickering splinters of Íþró scattered throughout it.

Loftskip poured her aura across the creature, calling to Íþró,  _her_  Íþró, her elf-

She called to him.

And she felt him scream.

 

* * *

 

All at once, there was another  _thing_  within them, deep as their bones and deeper still in their mind. Its color moved too fast for them to see, too fast for them to catch and  _drive it out,_  and it pulled at their muscles, bloodily forcing their veins to shift beneath their very skin. It squeezed them like a set of massive jaws, molars crushing the bark second-skin that cocooned them, fangs tugging them away from themselves and into one part of their body-

No. Not them - not  _them,_  the color was reaching for their other half,  _stealing them-_

_**No no no NO NO - STAY AWAY FROM US-**_

Their other half - they weren't even trying to  _stay,_  weren't  _fighting_  the phantom teeth  _at all._

_**No no no nonononono come back come back come back-**_

__

* * *

__

She called to him. Her voice draped over his mind, soft but firm;  _come back,_   _hetja, come back to me._

He might have fought her, if he'd had the strength. Might've tried to stay. At the far corners of his mind he heard screaming that wasn't his own, heard that voice  _begging_  - and deep, deeper still, there was that vast, empty thing, slowly filling itself with their cast-off magic, feeding on their fury- 

It was almost awake.

He would've stayed and fought it a little longer.

But there wasn't any breath left in his lungs.

 

* * *

 

"Be still," Ana whispered, her fingers splayed and crackling golden. Roots crept up the monster's sides at her command, forming a latticework of flimsy shackles that wouldn't last more than a few minutes, at the rate Ana was expending her power to maintain them. The creature demanded her full focus, but even so, some part of her took notice of a bright, white color flaring to life in the corner of her eye.

Ana only afforded a second of attention to the color before her focus was torn back to the creature. His head lolling to the side, Glanni's eyes went wide, and a guttural screech echoed from behind the muzzle of roots forming over his jaws. The wings on the monster's back fluttered frantically, its body twisting from side to side. One clawed hand broke free of its restraints and lashed out at Ana's leg, just barely missing her before she called more roots to bind it.

"Glanni," Ana hissed, words half a demand and half a plea, "be  _still_."

The distant white light dimmed.

A different color took its place.

Glanni's pupils dilated until his eyes were nothing but black, and the creature's whole body suddenly slackened - like all the life had left it in that moment - and went still.

 

* * *

 

Their other half was fading, fading fast, nearly  _gone_ -

**_NO NO NO - GIVE HIM BACK - GIVE HIM BACK-_ **

Their shrieking thoughts filled the cold void inside them, desperation flooding past the edges of their own mind into the emptiness that surrounded them. What they found was a place, a presence, less empty than they remembered - not a figment of their imagination, not a leaking fragment of their clouded memories.

It breathed a color, a power, all its own.

It was  _strong_.

They screamed.

And the void answered.

 

* * *

 

Perched high up in the branches, Sportacus saw the roots move first. Not the small, quick ones the monster had been controlling - no, the movement he saw came from the huge roots at the base of the trees surrounding the clearing. All at once they began slowly churning, their motions almost rhythmic, the dull quiet in the forest broken by the sound of wood groaning and cracking.

The roots around the hollow moved, too.

Sportacus's heart skipped a terrified beat. Leaning over the side of his branch, he shouted, "The hollow, it's - it's  _moving!!"_

For a breathless moment, he waited for someone to respond.

Moments passed, piling upon each other with stifling weight and urgency, but no response came. 

Sportacus sucked in a sharp breath, heartbeat pounding in his ears. He could  _see_ them all down around the monster, they were keeping it bound and trapped - he couldn't see what Loftskip was doing from this angle, but he  _knew_  she was still there-

But none of them gave any sign of having heard him.

Frigid cold rushed up from Sportacus's chest, setting his teeth on edge. His crystal whined, showing him a strange color, a dark and murky hue tainted with a dozen other shades of blue and red and green and yellow. The color wrapped around his mind, slowly taking the shape of tendrils, of veins-

It took the shape of a gaping, cavernous maw, lined with  _thousands_  of teeth all the way down the throat, and Sportacus snapped out of his vision with a gasp. 

He knew - he  _knew_  - those jaws weren't real. There was too much darkness around them to have been real-

But the  _hunger_  - it hadn't stayed in the vision. It clogged his head like smoke fumes, and as his vision cleared and his eyes fell upon the hollow, he found that the colors hadn't kept to the confines of his mind, either. Clear as day, they crept in vivid, scattered arcs up the tail end of the monster. 

Seconds later, the dirt crumbled around the monster's back legs, and a shoal of bulging roots emerged.

Sportacus's eyes went wide.

_"Robbie!!"_  he screamed in vain. "Loftskip!! Ana!!" 

None of them heard - none of them even  _looked_  at the damn hollow-

He couldn't make the jump down to the ground, it was too far, too long a fall-

But he had to make them  _see._

His hand moved with a mind of its own, reaching into his bag and seizing the cold metal within.

He didn't bother aiming. He pointed his arm in the vague direction of the encroaching roots - the  _hollow's_  roots-

Sportacus squeezed the trigger, and red smoke exploded into the air.

 

* * *

 

The sound of the sky exploding above them drowned out the sound of something snapping  _inside_  them - something slipping away, almost entirely, held on by a few fraying strings of jumbled thought and coiled magic and sinew. A gaping wound remained where their other half had been, and for a moment the light and sound of the red smoke pushed the void away, and they were utterly  _alone-_

But they didn't  _stay_ alone for long. Something crawled out of the dark to join them.

It wrapped around their mind, around their throat, around their very  _bones-_

All of a sudden they were  _strong -_ they weren't themselves, not weak and not whole, they were less and more and  _new-_

Their eyes snapped open.

Their gilded captor still stood above them, her head turned away towards the flare.

The roots crumbled away from their mouth as they grinned, a singular thought flooding their mind;  ** _we do not need you now._**

 

* * *

 

When the creature went still, Loftskip didn't let herself think  _why,_ or  _how._

She pushed past her momentary shock, past her crystal's rising keen of warning, and shoved her arm deep into the creature's flesh. Íþró's head slumped against her shoulder, bile drooling down her neck and chest from between his gasping lips, and each second the breaths weakened until they were all but silent. Plant matter fell from his face like dull butterfly scales, crisp veins of Loftskip's aura seeping into his skin and doing their damnedest to keep him breathing.

"Stay with me, Íþró, stay with me-"

Loftskip's claws cut through bark and knotted scar tissue, each twitch of her fingers calling more and more of Íþró's aura to her. Blackened tissue and bloody vines sloughed off the monster's sides, piling around Loftskip's knees like discarded entrails, but she forced herself to ignore it, ignore  _everything._ One of Íþró's arms slid free of a tumorous cluster of fungal growths, and the more she cut the more she could see his chest, bluish and bruised-

_Please, please, just a little more - just a little more-_

A gunshot split the air without warning, and Loftskip's crystal  _screamed._

Her attention left Íþró for a  _second_ \- just a second, nothing more, just a second when she turned her head to stare up at the blood-red smoke drifting through the air-

A second was all it took for her to lose her grasp on him, for his voice to fade from her mind.

A second was all it took for the creature to come roaring back to life, lurching up from the ground in a spray of dirt and blood.

A second was all it took for the roots to appear-

Loftskip's crystal wailed, sensing danger on all sides, but Loftskip could only think to try and grab Íþró again. 

The creature wrenched itself away, too fast and too forcibly for Loftskip to react in time.

The fabric at her elbow stretched thin, and tore until all that remained were a few scraps of leather and cotton to hold her arm together. A spasm wracked Loftskip's body as her magic poured from the wound, freezing cold taking its place, a cold that bit into her body almost as painfully as the feeling of the creature's claws tearing through her metal chest-

Instinct took over and forced her to let go to save herself. Her hands slipped away from Íþró, and she stumbled backwards, gasping for breath that she didn't need. Her vision blurred over from the pain in her arm, and she numbly grabbed at her shoulder with her good hand, rolling flat on her back in the gore-soaked ground as a wave of agony rippled through her body. 

Thick roots rose above her like snakes, blotting out the light from the flare.

"No-" Loftskip gasped, "no-"

The creature reared up.

Then the roots came crashing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know it's been... a while... since I've updated, but hey, you get two chapters at once, so maybe that makes up for it!
> 
> Honestly, sorry it took so long to get these chapters out. I wanted to make sure I did the finale right, plus I've been working on other things and dealing with IRL stuff. Last couple of weeks especially have been... rough. However, with these two chapters complete, I will make myself get the final chapter up soon, and then I can move on to bigger and better things... adaptation-type things...
> 
> Also. About this chapter. Feel free to yell at me in the comments. I know I deserve it. (And the next chapter should be up within the hour, don't fret!)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Holy shit this chapter turned out longer than expected but you know what, you all deserve it xD)

The moment the red smoke crossed her vision, Ana's magic pulled itself back to her body out of instinct, suddenly aware of the danger surrounding her. It wrapped around her, layer upon layer, releasing every root and vine she'd carefully called to bind the monster, and she didn't care. For a moment, all she could think of was her own safety, and all she could see was the flare - but there was something else, something she  _felt_ , something she'd been numb to before the flare reminded her to  _look-_

It was  _everywhere_ around her. It coursed up her spine and made her feel  _small._ Her eyes drifted past the smoke, up to the canopy that had somehow drawn itself tighter, to the trees that simultaneously stood darker and brighter than they had before-

Loftskip screamed.

Ana had never heard the golem scream before - not even the last time they'd fought the monster - but she knew the sound all the same. 

Her heart leaped to her throat, and her head spun around to first find the roots around Glanni's jaws tearing to shreds, revealing a sharp-toothed sneer. His teeth snapped for her throat, and she staggered backwards, saved only by the roots still tangled around the creature's neck. Snarling, Glanni pulled away from her, twisting from side to side, struggling to break free of the roots-

Ana sucked in a breath. She still had a chance - she could still keep the monster down, keep them bound and  _still-_

Just as she reached out with her magic again, one arm lashed out to Ana's right. She heard the sputtering gasp of breath being knocked out of lungs, and in the corner of her eyes she saw the purple shimmer of Robbie's wings.

She spun on her heels.  _"Robbie-!"_

The creature's arm slammed down where Robbie had been standing, sending wood splinters and dirt flying. Robbie fell on his side with a yelp, but didn't stay down - he pushed himself off the ground with a grimace, his wings bunched up around his shoulders. Blood oozed from a fresh cut on the front of his shoulder, but otherwise he seemed unharmed, and Ana's eyes darted right past him to the blue and black figure lying limp on the ground-

Her eyes went wide.

The monster reared up, and so did the huge roots around it.

Ana didn't hesitate to act.

She curled her arms to her chest and ripped her magic away from the roots with a deep breath. A searing pain split Ana's skull, and she thrust her arms towards the helpless golem.

Every scrap of magic on the surface of her skin exploded from her hands in burning golden light.

 

* * *

 

Robbie hadn't even gotten all the way to his knees before a blast of golden energy cleaved the air in front of him. With a startled cry, Robbie covered his face with his hand, wincing from the sudden burst of heat and wind that coursed past him. His eyes followed the movement, the world turning to a blur as his gaze snapped over his shoulder, finding a pair of gigantic roots lunging towards-

_-Loftskip-_

Every muscle in Robbie's body seized in terror. He flung an arm out, purple energy fizzling around his fingers, trying to connect with the roots and make them slow down or miss-

The roots ignored him and drove down towards Loftskip, but the golden light reached her first.

It spun in a cyclone around Loftskip's prone body, condensing into a translucent dome that all but vanished as the roots slammed into it. The moment the wood touched the energy, it ignited, golden whips chewing through the roots and turning them to sawdust in a matter of seconds; not so much as a splinter made it through the dome to Loftskip.

What remained of the roots recoiled from the dome, and Robbie heard a grunt of pain behind him. 

Panting heavily, Robbie turned from Loftskip and scrambled over to his mother. Blood dripped from both her nostrils, staining the front of her lips and chin, but she either hadn't noticed or didn't care. Her arms shook, and her eyes slowly drifted over to Robbie as he reached her side. 

"Mom!" He laid a hand on the side of her head, and she leaned heavily into his touch as he wiped the warm blood from beneath her nose. "Gods, Mom, you don't - you don't look good, you're  _bleeding_ -"

"I'm fine," she snapped, her eyes leaving him and looking past his shoulder. The magic at her fingertips sputtered, and she finally dropped her arms, letting out a ragged breath. "Robbie, you have to get Loftskip out of there-"

The words died in her throat as a tremor raced through the ground. Robbie looked up just in time to see the monster drop back to all fours, arms splayed and carving deep ruts into the earth. Moss fell from its body in huge chunks, exposing bruised skin and straining muscles as the roots circled it like squirming centipedes. 

Robbie breathed in sharply. He hadn't noticed until the monster turned to face him and Ana, but where the creature had earlier been fused as one, the elf's body now hung limply off the side of the husk, barely attached by strands of sinew and vines. Glanni still dragged Ipro along with him, but it was clear now to Robbie that the elf didn't have any effect on what the monster did anymore. 

Glanni lowered his head, pawing at the ground. The roots flanked him on either side, poised to strike. 

_"Yyouuu,"_  Glanni snarled, " _hurt ussss-"_

Robbie's blood ran cold.

Glanni charged.

And a second gunshot echoed through the air.

 

* * *

 

Scathing heat rippled across their shoulder and side in the wake of a distant explosion. They staggered with a screech, ears ringing and skin blistering as red smoke wafted around their body. The pain quickly faded to a dull throbbing, and as the smoke cleared they narrowed their eyes at the muted purple and gold colors huddled in the mud and moss.

**_You hurt - you hurt - won't let you-_ **

They barely made it one step forward before another burst of smoke impacted against their body. 

Screeching, they reeled to their right, swatting at the smoke and glaring along the line of the flickering red light. Their eyes couldn't focus through the pinkish mist, but their awareness  _stretched._ The parasite roots tugged their attention away, and through eyes that weren't theirs - weren't even  _eyes_  at all - they glimpsed a distant creature perched in the branches far above their head. 

It glowed blue.

It smelled like smoke and sweat and - and-

- ** _fucking_** _ **ELF** -_

They forgot the warm bodies on the ground and lurched towards the trees with a roar.

 

* * *

 

"Shit-" Sportacus gasped under his breath. "Shit, shit,  _shit_ -"

He didn't know the creature could move that fast _._

It crossed the clearing in  _seconds_ , dragging itself across the ground on its belly. The roots followed it, completely ignoring the people on the ground, which brought Sportacus just an inkling of relief before he remembered that the creature, while ignoring his family, was  _not_ ignoring him. 

Sportacus fumbled for another flare cartridge, shoving it in so fast he caught the skin of his hand in the chamber. Biting out a hiss of pain, he squeezed one eye shut and aimed for Glanni's face. A green flare collided with the side of Glanni's head, and the creature let out a shrill cry, but didn't slow down even the slightest bit - if anything, it ran  _faster_.

Another flare managed to make the advancing monster stumble. Sportacus rummaged frantically through his bag, only finding one more cartridge. Crouching on his toes, he shoved it into the chamber and fired, and this time it hit squarely on Glanni's chest. With a hoarse shriek, the monster tripped over its arm, as its legs and tail rolled over its back and brought it crashing down onto its right side, struggling to get back up.

The roots didn't wait for the monster to regain its footing.

And they didn't seem to care about any amount of flares.

With all the unrelenting force of an avalanche, the monster's roots jammed themselves into the base of Sportacus's tree. All the branches around him shuddered, and he almost lost his footing right then and there. The tree shook so suddenly and so aggressively that his only instinct was to keep himself from falling, and he latched onto the branch beneath him with both sets of claws. 

It didn't register for a few seconds that he'd dropped the flare gun. 

By the time he'd realized his mistake, the monster was on its feet again. The roots pulled back and renewed their barrage, and the whole tree groaned, and in the corner of his eye, Sportacus spotted an enormous crack, rapidly splitting up the center of the trunk. The monster's roots ripped the tree apart from the bottom up, and Sportacus's crystal screamed shrilly-

The tree toppled sideways.

Heartbeat and monster both roaring in his ears, Sportacus sprinted for the end of his branch, looked out to the nearest tree, and jumped.

* * *

 

Loftskip fully expected the monster to impale her a second time. She hadn't expected the golden dome, or for the creature to turn away and  _leave_  her. Through the muffling shield Ana had created, Loftskip caught sight of several bursts of red and green smoke, all one after the other. 

The roots withdrew, and the dome fluctuated and faded, leaving Loftskip to slowly sit up with a weak groan. Her right arm hung uselessly at her side, her aura spurting in loose bursts and sending spikes of pain through her torso. Grimacing, Loftskip reached around to her mangled arm and sliced through the remaining fabric. The dead weight of her right forearm fell to the ground beside her with a thud, and she staggered to her feet, tying off the torn ends of her elbow as best she could.

It wasn't perfect, but the makeshift tourniquet stanched the painful flow of her aura for the moment; enough, at the very least, to clear Loftskip's mind and let her  _focus._

Ana was down on her knees off to Loftskip's left - Robbie crouched near her, looking upwards-

The monster was in the midst of assaulting the trees on the far side of the clearing, writhing braids of roots churning in the soil all around it, trailing all the way back to the hollow-

And up in the branches, a flash of movement-

All she could see for a fraction of a second was a distant blue silhouette jumping out across open air before a harsh cry from her crystal ripped her attention away. Her body went ramrod straight, frozen in place as a series of scattered images spilled across the insides of her mind; roots destroying roots, Sportacus suspended mid-leap with nothing but air between him and the ground, Íþró-

_Íþró-_

She saw  _both_  her elves - both of them in  _danger-_

One too far away and one almost too far gone-

She couldn't be in two places at once.

Loftskip snapped herself out of the vision with a guttural yell, dragging her hand down her face. All her instincts told her to run for her elf, before he could fall. With every bit of willpower she had, Loftskip forced her crystal's wailing to silence, forced herself to look away from the trees, forced herself to ignore the fact that the monster's roots were reaching for him and there was nowhere left for him to run-

_Sportacus, I'm sorry-_

_I'm so, so sorry-_

 

* * *

 

There was a moment where Robbie thought Sportacus might have made it to the other tree; a moment where he blinked and couldn't quite see his elf through the smoke and sawdust swirling in the air. 

Then Glanni's voice echoed across the clearing, mostly a roar, partly a croaking rumble that might have been a laugh. The ground quaked beneath Robbie's feet, and the monster spun itself around at the shoulders, leaning with the roots as they surged across the earth and slammed into the base of the next closest tree.

Where there might have been a branch for Sportacus to land on, there was suddenly nothing but empty space.

Robbie's heart almost stopped. 

"No!!" he screamed. "No, no,  _no_ - _!!"_

Robbie could only watch helplessly as Sportacus reached desperately for the tree. His hands briefly flashed bright blue, and one of the boughs seemed to bend itself towards Sportacus, smacking into his chest and catching underneath his arms. Sportacus scrabbled for grip, but the whole tree shuddered, and he slipped down, gripping onto the willowy branch with both hands as he dangled a hundred feet above the ground. 

For a moment Robbie thought he might be safe.

Then the roots tore the tree in half with a deafening  _crack_ , and Sportacus fell. 

 

* * *

 

Loftskip heard Robbie shout Sportacus's name. It was the only thing she  _could_ hear, for an agonizing moment.

She forced herself to look away from him, away from the trees and the monster's roots. Her crystal begged her to turn towards the far end of the clearing, but she pushed herself forward, towards the creature itself. Limping up to the monster's shoulder, she hunched out of Glanni's line of sight, shifting to avoid his claws as they restlessly dug into the ground. Pushing through the moss and bark hanging in shingles from the creature's torso, Loftskip found Íþró's exposed arms and body hanging listlessly towards the ground. 

Clenching her fists, Loftskip drew her aura into her shoulder, condensing it at her elbow until it hardened into a spectral arm with unsheathed claws. It took all her energy to maintain it, and she put her focus into her claws, and  _only_ her claws - there wasn't time to search for Íþró's aura, not now, not when her crystal was screaming that he was  _fading_ -

Loftskip went deaf to the world around her as she drove her claws through the tissue surrounding Íþró.

She latched onto his pallid body with both hands, tightened her grip, and  _pulled-_

All at once fluid gushed out from the wounds around Loftskip's arms. An electric shock rippled up her arms and grazed her crystal, and she staggered backwards. A burst of her off-white aura carved through the creature's hide, and the tension that'd been fighting her  _snapped._

A limp body slumped free of the monster and sank against Loftskip's chest as she fell to her side the ground. 

Loftskip wrapped her arm around the shivering body, her mind frantically taking note of blonde hair, drooped, pointed ears, a torso and arms that were so bruised they looked less like skin and more like dark, mottled marble-

His eyelids fluttered, and his lips parted as if to breathe.

Loftskip didn't know if her elf made a sound when he opened his mouth. Whether it was a gasp of pain or silence or a whisper, she didn't get a chance to hear it.

She only had him in her arms for a  _second_ before a shockwave crashed into her and knocked her flat.

A bolt of deep blue magic erupted from the gash in the monster's side, and Glanni let out a howling scream.

 

* * *

 

A high-pitched ringing - so loud that it blotted out all other sound - filled Ana's head just moments before the shockwave hit her. Something popped inside her ears, and her chest tightened until she could only just barely breathe. She clutched at her chest with one hand, doubling over onto the ground, lips parted with a hoarse scream as a flood of electrical energy washed over her. 

The creature twisted in place, spine curling backwards violently as blue smoke spilled out from a wound at its shoulder.

Ana squinted through the spasm of pain wracking her body, finding the creature writhing against the ground, legs bunching to its body, tail thrashing from side to side and tangling with the roots. The wings on its back shriveled and vanished beneath a wave of moss that sloughed off its back, exposing a sharp backbone and inflamed muscle. The wound in its shoulder widened, dark, viscous liquid pouring forth from somewhere deep within the creature.

One of its arms buckled beneath it, rapidly shrinking as bark fell away from it in slivers. Glanni's head swiveled around, jaws wide and eyes wider. As his gaze swept past Ana, she noticed with a start that his eyes had turned an inky black color, pupils and sclera indistinguishable from each other-

The skin of the creature's underbelly ballooned, and a stream of smoky aura and fluid spurted from it, like a seam on the creature's hide had burst. 

The ringing in Ana's ears faded just enough to hear Glanni's scream-

Her vision focused enough to see Loftskip lying on the ground, dangerously close to the writhing monster and the  _roots_ -

She instinctively reached out to her son, but all she saw in the corner of her eye was a sudden flash of purple.

A gust of wind brushed across Ana's cheek, and Robbie vanished.

 

* * *

 

The ground raced towards Sportacus so fast that the world around him turned to a muted blur. The racing air ripped his breath from his lungs, and his arms and legs locked up out of overwhelming terror. As he plummeted, he caught sight of a trench opening beneath him, moss and thorns crumbling into the dark crevasse. 

His only thought was to squeeze his eyes shut and hope the impact killed him before the thorns could. 

Sportacus couldn't have been more than ten feet away from an ugly death when something else hit him in midair. 

It collided with him from the side, knocking the wind out of his lungs. A pair of arms wrapped around his chest, slowing his fall and pulling him away from the gaping trench. His first frantic impulse was to struggle against the foreign figure's crushing grip, but the panic drained completely from his body as a voice shouted in his ear, "For fuck's sake, stop  _squirming!!"_  

Sportacus glanced with wide eyes over his shoulder, and only then did he see the familiar shimmer of Robbie's wings. 

Confusion flooded his mind. "Robbie - you-??"

Robbie met Sportacus's gaze for a fraction of a second before a dark shadow swiped through the air at them. Robbie let out a strained yell and pitched himself to the right, wings beating the air desperately to try and dodge an enormous flailing root. A loud  _smack_  rang against Sportacus's ears, followed by a sharp yelp from Robbie, and the fae's grip tightened on Sportacus as they tumbled out of the air.

The dirt crunched beneath them as they crashed down on the far side of the trench. Small rocks and sticks jabbed sharply into Sportacus's arms and legs as he and Robbie rolled head-over-heels across the ground. By the time they came to a halt, his skin was covered in small cuts, and his backpack dangled by a single strap off his shoulder, torn apart in the landing. 

Somehow Robbie had kept his arms around Sportacus during their impact. He groaned and shifted onto his knees, leaning over Sportacus and sweeping a panicked gaze over Sportacus's fresh injuries. One of his wings was bent at a painful looking angle, and his cheek was badly scraped and bleeding to the point that one of his eyes seemed swollen, but he didn't seem to care as he framed Sportacus's face with shaking hands and stammered, "Sport, talk to me, are you okay??"

Sportacus grimaced. A sharp pain shot through his left ankle, and his arms stung from the cuts, but otherwise he was considerably more intact - and alive - than he thought he was going to be just a minute ago. "I'm okay," he wheezed, slowly sitting up and dropping his backpack off his now-sore shoulder. "Robbie, you - since when could you  _fly??"_

The immediate panic in Robbie's face drained away, and his hands slipped down from Sportacus's face. Still breathing heavily, he managed a weak shrug. "...just now??" he said breathlessly. "I didn't - I didn't know if I could - Sportacus, I thought you were going to  _die-"_

Before Sportacus could reply to that, a hoarse bellow cut him off. The ground shook underneath him once again, and he finally realized that the ringing in his ears wasn't just from the fall, but from his crystal, too. Its sharp whine pierced the back of his skull, and the moment he turned away from Robbie and looked back towards the hollow, he realized with sinking horror the reason for its warnings. 

Loftskip lay on the ground, a limp figure clutched to her chest-

Ana was crawling low on all fours towards Loftskip, her form flickering and fuzzy at the edges-

All around them, roots cleaved the ground apart, sending chunks of dirt and plant matter spraying to the sides. The monster  _writhed_ , its body mass slowly shriveling away as its own skin peeled away like the bulging rind of an overripe fruit. A putrid stench filled the air as Glanni retched, bile spewing from his jaws while viscous liquid bubbled from widening gashes all across his bark-riddled body. 

The hollow let out a pulsing groan, like the  _thud-thud-thud_ of an enormous heartbeat.

Then the boughs of the canopy slammed together with a deafening shudder and plunged the forest into darkness.

 

* * *

 

_**No no nonoNONONO-** _

The sting of a burning white aura carved through their mind again, and this time it didn't stop. 

**_NO NO NO NO NO I CAN'T - I CAN'T LOSE HIM I CAN'T I CAN'T I CAN'T-_ **

Their screams fell against an empty space, an empty silence that seemed to stretch on forever. 

The white color seeped through every corner of their mind and stole away their other half completely. All at once the crystals on their back went dim, and the fog on their mind scattered, blown to pieces by the invading aura. It pulled and pulled until there was nothing left to find, no crimson aura to steal away, and all it left behind was blue.

All it left behind was -  _him._

It took his other half and it took the last barriers with him-

Now there was nothing between him and the  _cold-_

He didn't think. He  _couldn't_ think to stop himself, couldn't keep himself from screaming into the darkness in his mind, even as the dark crawled out into the air and closed over the trees above-

He screamed into the dark, into the space his other half had left behind.

**_COME BACK COME BACK I DON'T - I DON'T - I DON'T WANT TO BE-_ **

**_DON'T W̷͝A̷̡͞N̴̡͜T ̛T̢͢O̵͡ B̛͏͡Ę-_ **

**_-A̗̲̕ͅ ́ͣ͆̎̎͏͚Lͪ͌̎̍̏ ̺̖̯̥̞̯̪̄͌ͩ̾ͯͯ͋O̤̳̬̓̀́͆ ̴̗͍̻̥͙̰̜ͩͤ̔ͭͦN͉͚̟̼̠̳̄̉͛ͣ̆̃ͯ͡ ̵̝̓͌͌́Ë͏̘̙̱-_ **

 

* * *

 

Ana took her opportunity to move as soon as the monster pitched over onto its side, heaving for breath and briefly incapacitated. She tore her eyes away from Robbie and Sportacus as they collided in midair and half-dragged, half-crawled her way across the ground towards Loftskip. She sank up to her wrists in the pools of mud and viscous fluids spreading around the monster, her knees and shins soaked cold by the time she reached Loftskip's side.

A root swiped out blindly in their direction. Ana ducked, feeling it graze the hairs on the top of her head. She reached out and grasped Loftskip's leg, shaking it to get her attention. Loftskip lay on her side, one arm curled around a filthy, corpse-pale body. Ana's stomach twisted when she noticed the shredded fabric at the Loftskip's elbow where her other forearm should have been. She stifled her concern for the moment, lowering herself down beside Loftskip and flattening herself onto her stomach in the mud.

A constant tremor rippled through the earth beneath her, jolting with the sluggish movements of the monster - and growing stronger by the second.

"We can't stay here," she hissed to Loftskip, her warning tone barely louder than a whisper. "Move  _slowly_."

Loftskip's eyes flared up in her sockets, unnaturally bright as they locked onto Ana's face. "Sportacus," she gasped, "Sportacus, he - he fell-"

The low tremor intensified to a rumble that pierced Ana to the core. Loftskip's words cut off sharply, interrupted by a cracking groan from the trees, and all at once a gust of wind tore through the clearing. Ana looked up just in time to see the canopy shiver, the trees bending into each other and weaving their branches together to snuff out what remained of the sunlight.

A haze clouded over Ana's vision. She could make out silhouettes, but nothing more; the world had been washed of color, the air itself turned inky black and thick as mud. 

Somewhere across the clearing, Ana heard the sounds of scuffing, like boots and hands snapping twigs on the ground. Her eyes darted towards where she thought Robbie and Sportacus should have landed, but through the darkness she couldn't make them out. "Robbie caught him," she whispered, still not fully believing it herself, despite having seen it happen. She pressed a finger to her lips, blood and mud smearing together on her hand. "Loftskip, if we stay here, Glanni or - or something else  _will_ see us. You need to get up,  _now."_

In the dark, Loftskip's eyes and crystal glowed so bright that Ana could clearly make out her face and body, right down to the way her eyes dimmed to pinpricks and she froze completely still.

"...Ana," Loftskip breathed, staring up at the space behind Ana's shoulder, "don't move." 

Something massive moved directly above Ana's back. It let out a soft creak that she could barely hear over the sound of her pulse roaring in her ears. Curling her fingers into the mud, she met Loftskip's gazed and watched for a change, waited for some kind of instruction. Ana's wards stretched themselves thin around her body, making themselves as slight and innocuous as possible - and letting their remaining power flow back into her hands.

The monster's breaths -  _Glanni's_ breaths - grated hoarsely against Ana's ears, so loud it seemed like he was hovering right behind her. More sounds of wood cracking came from all sides, and her whole body tensed up as something slithered up against the toe of her boot.  She locked eyes with Loftskip, slowly drawing her hands up to her chest and cupping them together, conjuring a tiny spiral of golden light between her palms.

"When I signal," Ana whispered, "you  _run."_

Loftskip nodded, slowly and soundlessly crouching on the balls of her feet. She hooked her good arm beneath Íþró's knees and tucked his head against her shoulder, her eyes never leaving the space behind Ana. As Loftskip moved, the roots nudging Ana's foot shifted sharply, grazing against her leg as it turned towards Loftskip. The monster's breathing suddenly changed, tapering off to a low hiss before falling silent. 

Heavy footfalls shuddered against the ground.

The spiral in Ana's hands brightened and burned as the creature and its roots closed in.

 

* * *

 

Sportacus's vision had barely gotten a chance to adjust to the overwhelming darkness before a blinding flash of golden light exploded beside the creature. 

The split second before the flash, he caught sight of Ana's silhouette beginning to glow. With a single deft movement, she pushed off the ground with her elbows, rolled onto her back, and smashed her palms together. A wave of burning incandescent light burst from her hands, illuminating the half-dozen roots flanking the creature as it advanced towards Ana and Loftskip. 

Sportacus flinched with a yelp, covering his eyes with his arm. Painfully bright patches flickered on the back of his eyelids, burning the outline of the monster and the roots into his mind. Just as he opened his eyes again, the monster let out a distraught screech, and he looked up in time to see it recoil from the light, staggering backwards with a mad shake of its head. 

Ana's arms dropped, and so did the cloud of golden light. A shape on the ground beside Ana moved, and Sportacus recognized Loftskip the instant she stood, carrying something limp and vaguely person-shaped in her arms. Loftskip bolted past Ana, veering off to the left towards the series of narrow tranches scattered around the clearing. A cry of warning died in Sportacus's throat as he watched the roots surge after her, undeterred by the now rapidly fading light.

A single root smacked Loftskip across the back, knocking her flat. She collapsed over the body clutched to her chest, struggling to get up as the sludge on the ground clung to her legs. Sportacus's breath hitched, and in the back of his mind he heard his wards wailing, tugging at his limbs and urging him to run, but he sat frozen on the ground, incapable of willing himself to get up and try and to help.

All he could do was stare in mute horror as the root wrapped itself around Loftskip's leg. From this distance, Sportacus could only just barely make out what was happening - Loftskip twisting on the ground, pale blue sparks rippling down the length of her body. With a rough kick, she forced the root to let go of her leg, but before she could stand up again, Ana ran up beside her, grabbing her with both hands and dragging her down and forward.

They skidded downwards, sliding into a shallow ditch until Sportacus's couldn't see more than a hint of their heads and shoulders. What he  _could_ see, instead, was Ana bracing herself in front of Loftskip, stretching her hands above her head, and crossing her arms over her chest. A coil of golden energy manifested along her arms, and as if drawn by a magnet, the shadows lining the ditch pulled themselves away from the walls to surround Ana and Loftskip.

In seconds, the two of them were reduced to a hazy blur, and then Sportacus couldn't see them at all. A dull pain blossomed behind Sportacus's eyes as he tried to look directly at them, and he quickly averted his gaze, returning his attention to the disoriented monster. The dark blue smoke pouring from its wounds harshly illuminated its features, and Sportacus realized with a start that where once there had been two heads, now he could see only the one.

Glanni's jaws parted with a snarl. His head swept back and forth, searching through the darkness. 

His gaze swung past the place where Ana and Loftskip were hidden, and the snarl escalated to an anguished howl. The husk-like arms and legs of the creature slammed into the ground, and Glanni's own arms dropped to the earth, digging through the mud and silt. The hollow's roots dove into the moss, pushing up mounds of dirt as they probed relentlessly beneath the surface of the clearing.

Two of the roots erupted on the far side of Ana and Loftskip's hiding place.

The creature tore through the trench beside them, scattering dirt and sawdust in a cloud, and Sportacus lost sight of the glamour. 

His eyes darted to the ground, to the scattered contents of his backpack. He could only think of one way to distract the creature, one thing that could cut through Glanni's fury and force him to forget about Ana and Loftskip. He had no idea if it would work, but he grabbed one of the road flares lying on the ground, scrambled to his feet, and ran towards the monster.

Somewhere behind him, Robbie shouted, "Sportacus,  _don't-!"_   

Sportacus didn't hear the rest of Robbie's words over the sound of his own heartbeat roaring like thunder in his head. He leaped across the trench and skidded to a halt not more than ten feet from the monster, staggering with a grunt as a spike of pain shot through his ankle.

"Hey!! Glanni!" he shouted, ripping the cap off the end of the flare and striking them together. "Right here! I'm right here, look!!"

The flare ignited with a sizzle, casting a blood-red shimmer across the clearing. "Come on," Sportacus hissed, his whole body shaking. "Come on, take the bait, you fucking animal-"

Sportacus clutched the flare in a death grip, unable to bring himself to drop it. His muscles locked up as scalding heat and vibrant smoke wafting out around him, and the sharp whining of his wards dulled to white noise. The flare's crimson light fell across the monster's back; jagged shadows jumped across its body and between the surrounding roots. 

Glanni's head swiveled around with an audible  _crack_ , lips peeled back in a snarl-

The moment the light fell upon Glanni's dark, vacant eyes, his snarl drooped. All around him, the roots went still and slumped to the ground. Glanni's gaze shifted to the flare in Sportacus's hand, his head cocking to the side with something that might have been curiosity or confusion.

Then his whole body twitched, and the twisted limb-like growths lining his sides propelled him towards Sportacus at an alarming speed.

Sportacus braced himself, fully expecting Glanni to try and run him over-

Glanni came to a lurching halt, looming so close that Sportacus could  _feel_  his hot breath brushing over his face. Sportacus averted his gaze, not daring to look up as something nudged the top of his head. Warm, sticky fluid oozed down Sportacus's neck, slowly moving forward over his shoulder until it dripped down the space in front of him. The fluid shone dark red, and Sportacus realized with a sickening turn in his stomach that it wasn't just because of the flare. 

Glanni exhaled hoarsely, his breaths crashing over Sportacus in stilted, reeking waves. A shudder raced down Sportacus's spine as Glanni snorted, and he tightened his grip on the sputtering flare.

Teeth came down into view first.

When the rest of Glanni's face followed, Sportacus couldn't so much as blink, let alone look away. A pair of narrowed eyes raked over his body, repeatedly glancing between Sportacus's face and the flare. Glanni let out a guttural croak, glaring at Sportacus's chest, tilting his head from side to side. It was all Sportacus could do to not gag as Glanni opened his mouth, and the stench of rotting tissue and blood spilled out from between his teeth.

Glanni pushed his nose right up to the side of Sportacus's head, sniffing his muddy, blood-stained hair. 

Sportacus bit down a terrified whimper, clenching his teeth so hard he thought he heard something crack in his jaw. Glanni nosed his hairline, and Sportacus let out an audible gasp as teeth scraped his temple. Glanni recoiled from the sound, head dipping back in front of Sportacus with a low wheeze. 

Glanni's head dipped back into view, his eyes settling on Sportacus's crystal with unsettling intensity. Glanni slowly licked his tongue over his bleeding lips, coughing and then mumbling, "Iii -  _hgahckk -_ Iiththh..."

Sportacus's blood ran cold. 

" _Iii... iithrr_...  _rro??"_

* * *

 

"-right here! I'm right here!"

Loftskip's head shot up at the sound of Sportacus's voice. Her head swam with a mix of frantic worry and shock, but above all she was relieved that he'd drawn the monster away. It'd abandoned its hunt just in the nick of time; as soon as its back was turned, Ana collapsed, and her glamour collapsed with her.

Her whole body trembled, and she looked as if she was about to pass out. As the flare's light spilled faintly into the ditch, Loftskip spotted the drops of blood leaking from Ana's nose. Ana wiped her hand across her face, giving the blood a cursory glare. Craning her head to try and see out of the ditch, she mumbled under her breath, "We can't - I can't let this go on. We're going to lose him."

Ana started climbing up the slope.

"Ana!!" Loftskip hissed, struggling to get up, but finding herself caught in the branches lining the pit. "Ana, you can't, you're barely keeping yourself together-"

"I  _have_ to," Ana snapped. She pulled herself to her feet, glancing down at the body in Loftskip's arms. "You've got enough to worry about right now."

_"Ana-!"_

Loftskip's words fell on deaf ears.

Ana heaved herself out of the trench and disappeared - just as a tremor coursed through the earth, and the monster's roar pierced the air again.

 

* * *

 

A violent shiver ran down Sportacus's spine. His mouth hung open, tongue heavy as lead and uselessly floundering for any kind of reply. When he found none, all he could do was numbly shake his head; his crystal offered no helpful visions, and he couldn't form a single coherent thought. Glanni's voice clogged his mind, dense as mud, echoing  _Íþró, Íþró, Íþró_ , over and over again.

Glanni _knew_ , Glanni remembered, Glanni thought Sportacus was-

When the only response Sportacus gave was the sound of strained, shallow breathing, Glanni's eyes narrowed. He bared a set of sharp, yellowed teeth, stained with red and black, and he let out bloodcurdling roar that blew Sportacus's hair back across his scalp and scattered droplets of bile over his face. 

Sportacus flinched and stammered in terror, "Glanni, I don't-! I don't know, I don't know, I'm not - I'm not-"

Glanni recoiled with wide eyes and snapped his jaw shut, drawing in a deep snarl. _"Iiith-"_ he croaked, shaking his head like he'd been stung. His eyes darted between Sportacus's face and the crystal on his chest, and the tissue around Glanni's shoulders seemed to expand before Sportacus's eyes, patches of muscle puffing out and protruding twigs twitching all at once with a dull whine. Glanni's voice rose rapidly in volume, and he screeched, " _Bluue_  - yyoOUUU - YOU  _LIED_ _-"_

"Glanni, no, I didn't-" Sportacus reached out towards Glanni, lifting the flare up in the hope that its light would calm him like it had before. "Glanni, just _listen_ to me," Sportacus pleaded, "I know you're in there, please, just calm down-!"

 _"LIAR!!"_ Glanni bellowed, rearing up and stretching a clawed hand above his head, poised to strike down Sportacus where he stood.

Another hand reached Sportacus first.

He felt it first grip his shoulder, before it pushed him a step back and allowed Ana to firmly plant herself between Sportacus and Glanni. She gently grasped Sportacus's outstretched arm and tugged it down, her hand remaining reassuringly curled around his wrist. Thought her face was obscured from Sportacus, he recognized the tension in her shoulders; he'd seen the same in Robbie, far too many times. 

"Give me the flare," Ana calmly intoned.

Sportacus wordlessly pressed it against her palm, and he felt an electric, faintly painful tingle of energy when her fingertips brushed his hand. Glanni shrank back in alarm, his eyes darted from Ana to Sportacus to the flare, and back to Ana.

He shook his head, forced out a weak, defensive snarl, and croaked, "He- _hagahh -_ he  _hhhurrrrtt usss_ _-"_

"I don't care." Ana snapped. "You don't fucking touch him."

Glanni faltered at the intensity in Ana's voice. He staggered and coughed up a stream of bile, dropping his arm down to steady himself as a fresh web of cracks split across his mottled hide. The roots slowly encircled him, filling the air with a low creaking sound as they coiled under and over each other and wrapped themselves around the monster's torso. 

A soft  _thump_ sounded behind Sportacus, and he quickly glanced back over his shoulder to find Robbie landing ungracefully on the edge of the trench. He held his right shoulder with a badly scraped hand, grimacing around a split lip as he limped up to Sportacus. His eyes were locked on the monster as he wove his fingers through Sportacus's waiting hand and pulled him back several feet away from Ana, but for just a moment their eyes met, and it sent a shiver down Sportacus's spine. 

Robbie's gaze was filled with the same grim fury Sportacus was used to seeing in Ana's eyes. 

"I'm done letting him hurt you," Robbie hissed through clenched teeth. "Stay out of this.  _Please."_

A feeling of dread settled heavily in the pit of Sportacus's stomach. He let Robbie brush past him; as he did so, it was like a string that'd been holding him up had been cut. He sank to his knees behind Ana and Robbie, staring up at their backs - Robbie's glimmering purple wings, the faintest outline of gold where Ana's might have been. 

Sportacus felt a knot of fear take shape in his ribs as the warmth in the hollow intensified.

Without a word, Ana opened her hand, and let the flare fall silently to the ground.

 

* * *

 

Robbie watched the bristling monster with bated breath as Ana dropped the flare. Shadows flickered erratically across Glanni's face, further deforming the twisted sneer on his face. He forced himself to ignore the throbbing pain in his dislocated shoulder, keeping his focus on his mother and uncle. The standoffish tension radiating from them was oppressive as the heat in the hollow - a heat that Robbie realized was rapidly growing.

He might have imagined the gusts of stirring at Ana's feat. Might have imagined the cinnamon taste clinging to the roof of his mouth.

But he didn't imagine the blood dripping down from her nose, or the golden light crackling faintly at the corners of her eyes as she stepped over the smoldering flare and stretched her hand up towards Glanni. 

A haggard breath whistled between Glanni's clenched teeth. He flinched away from Ana's hand, and the roots around him twitched and began to creep forward. 

"Glanni," Ana said sharply, " _enough."_

Jagged arcs of dark bluish magic spurted from the gaping wound in the monster's side. The cold light bounced off the dark metal of the iron chains still wrapped around the creature's back, and they creaked in tune with the roots as Glanni's whole body was overtaken by a violent shudder. "Ngggghh _\- nno -_ I cgghhcan't -" His head whipped around with an audible crack, and he stared wide-eyed into the darkness, hyperventilating, "Ccchgcan't let - hurt - him-"

"We're not going to hurt him," Ana interrupted. "We're not going to hurt  _you."_ Something danced behind her eyes, something Robbie couldn't quite describe - something that made her look years older. Her hand remained in the air, steadily inching towards Glanni's face. Two of his twisted limbs buckled beneath him, and he collapsed onto one side, his head now looming only a foot above Ana and Robbie. 

Robbie sucked in a gasp, his hands twitching upwards at his sides, ready to pull her back if Glanni attacked her. Seconds felt like minutes, each passing heartbeat a thunderous boom in Robbie's head as he watched Glanni's body tense, his jaw open, his eyes widen-

There was a second when nothing happened, then another, and another, and all Robbie could hear was the choked-up sound of Glanni's hoarse whines-

Then his mother's voice broke the stillness, her previously steady tone broken by the faintest tremor.

"You know I'm not going to hurt you," she whispered, slowly rubbing her thumb over the bruised skin beneath his eye. "You  _know_  that, Glanni. You know  _me."_

Glanni let out a half-choked whimper, leaning heavily into Ana's hand and shivering as if he'd just crawled out of a frozen lake. His eyes sluggishly flickered away from Ana, landing on the space around Robbie's shoulders. Robbie felt his wings perk up under Glanni's dazed glare, his wards sensing the danger in the monster's attention. A snarl pulled at Glanni's mouth, and Robbie's wards desperately urged him to  _run_ as Glanni croaked, "Hgghhe - _he_ \- ttoook youuuu-"

"He had to," Ana said softly. "He had to, you know that." 

"Isstthhh - shhgho - so _cccold-"_  

Robbie furrowed his brow, habitually looking to his mother for some kind of clarification - all while the hollow's distinctly sweltering heat sank through his clothes. His confusion doubled when Ana visibly trembled, her breath hitching in her throat and her lips pursing tightly with what Robbie could only guess was guilt. 

"...I know, Glanni." A faint mistiness gathered at the edges of Ana's eyes, partly obscured by the dirt and flecks of dried blood on her face, but still all too clear to Robbie. "I know, and I'm so sorry I left you there." Ana slowly extended her other hand, framing Glanni's face and turning his gaze away from Robbie. As she did so, she glanced at Robbie and flicked her eyes towards the creature's husk. 

Warily, Robbie stepped to the side, inching his way towards the creature's shoulder. The roots around it had gone still again, and Glanni's attention was focused solely on Ana. Biting his lip, Robbie maneuvered into place, gathered his remaining energy into his hands, and waited for a second signal from his mother.

Glanni reached a quivering hand towards Ana, splaying his claws against her chest. "Ssccghcold, Aaaa - Aannaaa - come back _, ghghgg_ , come  _back-"_

"I can't do that, Glanni."

Robbie's heart skipped a beat as Glanni snarled hoarsely, his claws twitching and piercing the fabric of Ana's sweater. Ana grimaced and curled inwards slightly, but she didn't push Glanni away. She waited patiently as his claws slipped down and away from her chest, dropping to the ground and sinking into the mud. The creature's whole body shifted forward, and Glanni croaked, "Nnnn -  _need-"_

"What you need to do is  _listen_ to me," Ana pleaded, stroking the side of Glanni's head. "I can't come back, but I can help you.  _We_ can help you. You have to let us in, you can't keep fighting this on your own-"

Glanni whined sharply and reeled backwards. Ana desperately tried to keep Glanni still, but he ripped his head out of her hands and screeched haggardly, "Waasssn't - wasn't - wasththhn't  _alone_ until youuu - you - you - _you took - took hiihhh - tooghghgkhiimmmm-"_

A twig snapped behind Robbie.

He barely had time to duck before Glanni's head whipped towards the sound, frantic breaths heaving between his teeth as his eyes scanned above Robbie's head. Ana stumbled as she lost her grip on Glanni, and Robbie saw her eyes widen with alarm as she looked over Robbie's shoulder. Acutely aware of the shifting roots around his feet, Robbie turned as slowly as possible to see what had drawn Glanni's attention. 

As soon as he saw them, his blood ran cold.

Just on the edge of the flare's sputtering light, Loftskip was frozen in the midst of climbing out of a ditch. She hunched over a motionless body, one of her arms torn almost completely off, her body completely still and her mask somehow expressing terror as the monster's gaze fell upon her. Robbie's stomach bottomed out as her bright blue eyes darted towards him, silently begging for help. 

" _Glanni_ ," Ana hissed, the ice in her tone sending a chill down Robbie's spine as her words slipped into Fae speech.  _"You will not. Touch. Them."_

Glanni whirled back towards Ana, one of his gnarled root-legs elbowing Robbie squarely in the back, knocking him down to his knees. Robbie let out a pained gasp and doubled over, his limbs aching from fatigue. Groaning, he forced himself back onto his feet, turning back towards his mother just in time to see her raise her hands towards the snarling creature. 

"I can't let you hurt them," Ana snapped, "you have to listen to me, Glanni, you have to let me help-"

"Yougghh  _liiighhg_ -" Glanni screeched, " _Llliieee_ \- _lyyinnng_ - _!!"_

Glanni's words were lost in a howling roar, and the roots frothed to life around him. 

Ana's gaze met Robbie's.

"Robbie," she shouted, " _now!!"_

Faster than Robbie could blink, Ana stretched her arms up as high as she could and grabbed Glanni by the hair, yanking him down to her level. Loops of golden light flashed up her arms and into her fingertips, and Glanni's roar sharpened to a high-pitched wail.

The air filled with the stench of chlorine and rot and-

Cinnamon.

Robbie grit his teeth, pushed both hands through the filth caking the monster's body, and let his magic flow free.

 

* * *

 

This time, the colors came for -  _him._

Purple - color of _wings_ , color of a boy who faded in and out of his scattered memories - came first, crawling over his skin like a horde of biting insects. Moss and bark crumbled away from his body, disintegrating into dust. The cold, dark jaws grasping at the back of his mind closed down sharply, shutting out the glittering purple aura-

**_Go away g̛̹̲̮̥o̢̼ aw͝a̡̨y҉ -_ **

**_G͏̩̰͡O̸͞҉̦̣͓̥ͅ ̓̄̀A̴̷̫̯͜ ̴̬͓̹̫͔͘W̟̼͢ ̢̹̝̲̪̯͡A̛̖͖͕̬͕̙̤̠ ̴̛͎̱̰̙̥̼̜̰͡Y̷͍̬̤̗͍̞̝̕-_ **

The cold seized him by the bones, dragging him away from the faint warmth of the purple color, and-

- _Glanni-_

Incendiary heat billowed up through the darkness, forcing a raw copper-and-cinnamon taste down his throat. Golden light stabbed through his eyes and suffused him, breaking the cold jaws in half.

_GLANNI-_

She was _there_ , she was reaching for him, she-

She-

She whispered,  _listen to me._

Fragmented memories danced across his mind: shattered glass, bloody hands. Gray eyes turning gold. The moonlight, and the first flakes of autumn snow. The knife. The roots. Wards wound taught, keeping the crushing dirt out of their lungs, slowly squeezing their bodies together and suffocating them in silt and mud and each other's scents-

She touched his face, and her voice cut through the dark and the screaming silence. 

_Let me in, Glanni._

_Let me in._

 

* * *

 

Dozens of half-remembered days flashed through Robbie's mind; scattered afternoons full of board games where Glanni insisted on making up new rules to play by, empty hot chocolate mugs sitting in the sink while Glanni showed him to weave glamours together. Birthday presents in the mail - the presents themselves not mattering nearly so much as the scribbled letters that came with them.

A certain shade of blue ghosted over all the memories, visceral and palpable as his mother's golden shimmer. 

Robbie pried into the monster's garish colors, plucking out slivers of that deep, rich blue. They shrank back from his touch, surrounded by a frigid emptiness that Robbie's aura sense couldn't quite comprehend. For every shred of  _Glanni_ that he managed to snag in his grasp, another dozen memories flitted out of reach. Somewhere on the distant edge of his perception, he felt the ground shudder beneath him again, and the rough texture of roots brushed against his leg. 

Robbie forced himself to dive deeper.

His mind filled with the memory of bruises, black eyes, a pink coat-

A letter with a warning his mother refused to obey-

Weeks alone, the pain in his back, the shattered glass and the  _elf-_

Sportacus's voice crept up through the back of his mind, a phantom vision of a night spent together. A night filled with whispers in the dark, and a slow admission;  _"They loved each other."_

Robbie clenched his jaw and wound his aura tightly around the memory, pressing it up against the borders of Glanni's fractured mind.

And something in the endless darkness fractured, too.

 

* * *

 

Ana felt Robbie's aura bleed over Glanni, adjacent to hers; the shape of his memories slowly eroded the darkness, paving the way for her to follow.

She only skirted the surface, at first. She watched Robbie's body seize in the corner of her eye, listened as Glanni's wail tapered off into a breathless whine. His eyes stared, listless and dazed, into the space between him and Ana, labored breaths squeaking beneath his clenched teeth. The damp, tangled hair caught between her fingers and the viscous tears misting at the corners of Glanni's wide eyes conjured up a distant memory of another night, another forest - another life entirely.

It wasn't her brightest memory of Glanni, or her kindest, or even her worst... it was a little bit of all of those things, but more importantly, it was her _first_ memory of him, and it was stronger than his denial, older and stronger than the darkness clouding his mind. It _had_ to be - she would _make_ it stronger, make it be enough to bring him back. 

"Glanni," she whispered, pressing their foreheads together and letting her aura wash across him. "Listen to me."

She pulled echoes of a bygone time out of her memory, plunging them deep between the contusions and the scars and the splinters of blue crosshatching Glanni's haggard body. A forest took shape in her mind, a stretch of trees vaster than this empty Court, and a hundred times as vibrant; a forest that stood on the border of Unseelie territory. 

She'd been thorough. She'd taken feeble trees and made them strong, woven their wards into an impenetrable net.

And they warned her when the runaway Unseelie trespassed into her Queen's domain. 

"Let me in, Glanni." She slid her hand down to his cheek. "Let me in."

Ana remembered an iron knife sharpened from an old railroad spike. A pair of crumpled blue wings. A name shouted from the distance, a call he refused to answer. She'd left him there to die, and she'd come back the next day to find him still clinging to life, utterly severed from his Court. 

"You didn't have to tell me," she murmured. "You didn't owe me anything... but you told me how you did it. You told me how you saved yourself - how _I_ could save myself." Biting the inside of her cheek, Ana rubbed her thumb over the edge of Glanni's eye, and her voice dropped to barely louder than a whisper. "I know you think you can do the same here, but you _can't_. You can't save yourself this time, Glanni. You have to let me in."

His gaze slowly shifted back to her face.

A desperate grimace pulled at the corners of Ana's mouth. "I won't lose you. Not to a fucking _forest_." 

At the word  _forest,_ a haze seemed to lift on Glanni's eyes, just for a heartbeat; just long enough to let Ana see what laid behind him, what force had been clouding his mind, his senses, his memories. Part of it was the hollow, but so much more of it was Glanni's own aura, strangling itself without reason, struggling to fill a void that should never have existed in the first place. 

It was a force she'd reckoned with long ago, when she'd plucked her own Name right out of her mind. 

Ana drew in a deep breath, allowed the darkness to draw her aura back inside the monster, sank into the empty space that held her once before-

And with barely more than a whisper, she shattered the monster from within. 

 

* * *

 

With a puff of sulfur, a jagged blue vein in the creature's side burst. The cracks widened across its hide until all Sportacus could see was dark, angry blue, and a sickening, squelching noise filled the clearing. Thick streams of black ooze poured off the creature's body, slopping down around the roots as they tensed once, and went deathly still. With a heave of his entire body, Robbie pulled backwards on one of Glanni's arms, and piece by piece the bark molted off the monster. 

The iron cables fell with a  _thud,_ the body trapped within them rapidly shrinking until it was nothing more than a shed husk. The wings atop the creature vanished, and the legs shriveled up like discarded insect shells. Robbie staggered back, reeling from the plumes of blue smoke and crackling aura, and finally, an arc of blinding gold washed across the creature, forcing Sportacus to avert his eyes. 

He squinted an eye open as one last rumbling _crunch_ echoed through the clearing in the wake of the monster's collapse. The first thing he saw was Ana falling to her knees, a body clutched in her arms. 

A mix of fading adrenaline, blurred vision, and the sight of almost-familiar wings on the figure's back drove Sportacus into a panic. He'd assumed the figure must have been Robbie, but a quick glance to his right revealed to him that Robbie was still standing, gasping for breath with his hands braced on his knees. His wings lay flat across his back, drooping as if wet, but they perked up immediately when the figure lying in Ana's lap let out a low groan.

As the dust settled, Sportacus glanced behind Ana and Robbie, and saw another cavernous hole in the creature's husk - or what was left of it.

Mouth agape, he stared at the person in Ana's arms; their thin, emaciated-looking body, the layers of mud caked over their skin, a shaggy mass of dark hair almost the same shade as Robbie's. Their fingers twitched, and their head lolled back with a weak gasp, revealing the familiar face that had stared Sportacus down, teeth bared, not more than five minutes ago.

Ana brushed her fingers through his hair, running her thumb down his cheek. Slowly she lifted her head, looking up at Robbie with an unreadable, tight-lipped expression. Robbie's eyes widened, and he slowly dropped to his knees beside them, wincing and heavily favoring his right side. He started to extend a hand out towards Glanni, but he hesitated halfway, as if doubtful that Glanni was really there.

"He..." Robbie whispered haltingly, "he's..."

"I know," Ana replied gently. "I know." 

Robbie cupped his hand over his mouth, shuddering with a barely-restrained sob. A strange feeling settled in the pit of Sportacus's stomach as he watched them; one part relief that it was over, and one part guilt over intruding on the family's reunion. 

Another feeling made itself known, as he rose unsteadily to his feet. His senses were so numbed from exhaustion that he almost didn't notice it until it cried out in his ear, until it jabbed into his ribs like a cold, blunt knife. 

He didn't know what it was - didn't know what it  _meant -_  until he turned to look at Loftskip, and his crystal let out a shrill scream. 

 

* * *

 

_No, no, no-_

Something was wrong.

In the midst of the fray, Loftskip hadn't gotten a chance to notice it; all that mattered was distance and survival. All that mattered was  _separation -_ she'd thought it would be enough just to keep them apart, but-

As the dust settled - as Ana and Robbie dragged Glanni out of the monster's husk, and his weak breaths echoed softly through the clearing - Loftskip felt a crippling chill. Her body moved a few feet further of its own accord, carefully dragging Íþró towards Sportacus and the others, but each stumble and each inch he slipped from her hand drove the realization in deeper.

Finally, the strength left Loftskip's legs. She collapsed over Íþró little more than arm's length away from Sportacus, resting her head against the bloodied side of his face-

A dull pain stabbed through her chest, and she heard two crystals scream in unison. In the stillness, with her head so close to Íþró's face, so close to his closed eyes and cold-blue lips, she finally felt it-

The lack of movement, the lack of warmth, the lack of-

_Oh gods, oh gods - no, no, NO-_

She lifted her head and met Sportacus's horrified gaze, as a wave of utter helplessness crashed over her.

"Sportacus," she gasped, "he's not breathing!" 

 

* * *

 

Something lingered in the dark, like a struggling fish caught in a net; left behind long after the shoal had passed on, it had nowhere to go but down into the deep, into the silt and mud.

A call sounded in the dark, rumbling through the earth, between roots and stone. 

 

**_C͉̘͔͉ͫ̓ͅŌ̾̔͏̲̲̖̥̪͔M͇̼͛ͧ̂̆̌ͤ̽͘E̶̩͙̯̮͎̮̓ͣ ͍̹ͯ͡ ̈ͩTͯ͏Ö͍́̓ͦͦ͛̀͠ ̴̤̘̣̬͕̭͛̊ ̰͔̣̼̜̬̤͌͗̂̅͌̌Ų̲̘͙̮̻Ṣ̖̬͔̻͓̔ͬͬ͌ͦͮ-̜͎͇̂͌̊ͅ_ **

 

They were diminished, but not destroyed. The fae-creature sleeping in their jaws had been stolen, but the thief had not finished the job - it incensed them, and they sent a surge through their roots, seeking the last vestiges of a vulnerable power they could feel trembling against their mighty heart. It was weak, fluttering like a butterfly with a broken wing, but they knew ways to take power and make it part of their whole.

 **_C̟̗̖͟O͏͖͈M̕E̡̦̫̜͔̜̖-_ **  
**_͙̞̳͉͠_ **  
**_͔T͓̖̥̲̣̪O̢ͅ-_ **  
**_͏͓̺̖̩̠͚̖_ **  
**_̲͉̯̦ͅU̫̹̩͎S̻̩͕͚̤͉̕-_ **

 

They were almost strong enough to wake.

And if the wailing blue would not come to them, they would take the crimson instead.

 

* * *

 

Sportacus felt like the world had been yanked out from underneath him.

He forgot everything around him in an instant, forgot Robbie and Ana and Glanni; even the forest, the roots, the enveloping darkness left his mind. He stumbled to Loftskip's side, dropping to his knees over his cousin and listening for any sound of movement from between his lips. When he heard nothing - not so much as a whimper - he pressed his fingers to Íþró's neck, struggling and failing to keep himself from shaking.

Sportacus's heart soared frantically as he felt it; a faint, sluggish pulse, growing weaker with every passing second.

His eyes darted to Loftskip. "What happened, why isn't he - what the  _hell_ happened?!"

"I don't know!" Loftskip stammered, "I don't know, I think-" Her hand curled against Íþró's head, and she froze. "Sportacus, I'm so sorry, I didn't - I didn't think he'd - he was fading _,_ I had to get him away from Glanni, I  _had_ to-!"

Sportacus's eyes widened. He roughly pulled Íþró's body into his lap, smoothing his hair away from his half-lidded eyes. Hyperventilating, he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and snapped his head around to look back at the recently rescued Glanni, still lying in a shivering pile in Ana's arms - shivering, breathing, _alive_. Robbie's hands were cupped over his mouth in silent horror, and the furrowing of Ana's brow betrayed an unmistakable worry. 

Time seemed to slow as Sportacus's gaze swept past them, to the remains of the monster; the twisted roots, the chunks of dead skin and moss and bark, the chains, the splinters of dull red crystal-

- _oh, gods-_

Loftskip clutched Íþró's hand even as Sportacus cradled him to his chest, clinging to him as if he was her lifeline. Faint lines of her aura spilled off her glove, flickering across Íþró's skin. "Sportacus," she whispered hollowly, "I can't - I can't  _feel_ him-"

Sportacus's mouth ran dry. Mind racing, he shifted Íþró's head onto his shoulder and touched their foreheads together. Laying his thumb against Íþró's temple, he felt for his cousin's aura, reached out towards the sunset crimson that'd sheltered him for so long as a child-

"I'm so sorry, I didn't-" Loftskip rambled, her composure visibly crumbling. "I didn't do it right, I didn't wait, I should've  _waited-"_

Sportacus barely heard her as he sharply pulled his hand away from Íþró's magic points. "He's - he's _dying_ _,"_ he mumbled frantically, looking up at Loftskip. "His aura's not - it's not  _there._ I can feel it, it's - it's close, it's like it's trying to get back to him, I can  _hear_ it, but his crystal-" He and Loftskip both looked over to the broken remnants of Íþró's crystal, faintly shimmering on the monster's corpse, and Loftskip let out a noise of anguish. Sportacus's throat tightened, and he fought back the sting of tears as he grabbed at his shirt, fumbling for the crystal sitting there upon his chest. 

He had no idea if it would work, but if  _anything_ would-

Prying his crystal out of his casing, he pressed it against Íþró's chest and covered it with his hand. He condensed his aura in his palm, trembling with urgency and begging, "Come on, Íþró, come on, breathe,  _breathe -_ I can't lose you, I can't, I  _can't,_ I just got you back, don't you fucking  _dare_ die on me!"

Íþró's waning aura ebbed away from Sportacus's touch, but he refused to let it slip away. He poured his magic into Íþró's lifeless shell, using the crystal as a conduit; the crystal that was once a tiny, pale sliver chipped off of Íþró's crystal, grown into its own gem and given to Sportacus when he was six years old. A crystal Íþró had painstakingly cultivated in preparation for an apprentice, for his cousin-

A crystal that held just the tiniest fragment of Íþró's own aura. A fragment Sportacus had kept close to his heart, ever since Íþró had vanished. It was all he'd had left, the only thing he could hold onto after his cousin disappeared. It was a permanent fixture in his mind, just like Loftskip; where Sportacus went, so went his crystal, and within that crystal, a constant reminder of Íþró.

Without hesitation, he gave up that fragment; tore it out of his crystal and pushed it between Íþró's ribs, down into his core, where his aura should have been.

 _Please,_ he silently begged, deaf and blind to the world around him.  _Come back, Íþró, please._

His aura spread across Íþró's body, mixing with Loftskip's magic, and their crystals  _keened-_

"Come on," Sportacus whispered, over and over, slowly rocking Íþró in his arms as tears began streaming down his face. "Come on, breathe -  _breathe-"_

Like an anchor dropped in a still-water pond, Sportacus's crystal sent out a ripple. 

There was a burst of white noise in Sportacus's ears, and-

Íþró's whole body seized, and his chest swelled underneath Sportacus's hand. His eyelids fluttered, and with a suddenness like a clap of thunder, he coughed and drew in a hoarse, gasping breath. 

Sportacus gasped, so startled by Íþró's revival that he could only sit frozen and mute, staring down at his cousin as he kept weakly coughing. Loftskip straightened up the moment Íþró began breathing again, a rambling series of gibberish Elvish words spilling past her mask as she leaned over Íþró and carded her fingers through his hair, doing her best to comfort him despite her own severe injuries. Sportacus didn't move his hand from his cousin's chest; he kept his crystal right where it was needed, allowing Íþró's aura to slowly find its way back into his body, stabilizing bit by bit as Íþró's breathing grew steadier. 

He continued gently rocking Íþró, cradling him tightly to his chest as his tears burned down the cuts on his face. 

"Stay with me," he murmured, just to make sure his cousin would keep breathing - just to make sure he wouldn't be lost again. "Stay with me."

 

* * *

 

While her son watched the sobbing elves in silence, while Glanni lay unconscious in her lap, Ana found her attention drifting away from their small, exhausted group. She looked upwards, to the trees looming in a circle around them. Faint creaks and groans murmured through the canopy, like discordant whispers, and tiny darts of colors shot from branch to branch, arcing down trunks all the way to the ground, and deeper still.

She was sure none of the others felt it. None of them had lived in forests so long to know their habits, their mannerisms.

No one else could recognize  _hunger_ the way Ana did, in that moment. Clenching her jaw, she studied the trees, her attention slowly making its way back to the nearest and greatest among them; the slumbering hollow. As her eyes fell upon it, she felt a prickling ache along her spine, like sharpened teeth gnawing at her shoulders - like the forest itself was breathing down her neck. 

Ana felt it strongest from the hollow, and as she watched, the hollow's roots stirred once more.

The slowly encircled the monster's corpse, weaving under and over it and tugging the chains away. With the iron gone, the roots tugged the husk back, and Ana heard a stuttering cough from Íþró as they did so. 

At the same time he coughed, she saw a dull glow from something on the husk's back; small shards of crystal, still faintly lit from within. They pulsed weakly in time with Íþró's breathing, brighter on the inhale, dulled to near-black on the exhale, and it didn't escape her notice that the closer the roots brought the husk to the hollow, the weaker and more unsteady Íþró's breaths became.

Ana's eyes widened.

They couldn't call the ship, the canopy would tear it to shreds - and running had  _never_ been an option. 

The hollow, weak as it was, couldn't consume the monster, but a few shards of elvish crystal-

If it took the crystal, if its power grew even the  _slightest_ bit more-

She couldn't afford to wait. A starving, awakened hollow was not something her family would survive.

"...Robbie," she whispered, "keep Glanni close." 

It took a moment for him to shake off his stupor and turn back towards her. "What?"

Standing slowly, Ana gently pushed Glanni out of her lap, laying him beside Robbie. "Keep him close," she said calmly, laying her hand against Robbie's cheek and kissing the top of his head. His wings drooped as he stared up at her in confusion, but she straightened up and cleared her throat softly, getting Sportacus and Loftskip's attention. "Stick together," she said, stepping away from the group. "No matter what happens." 

"Mom, _wait,_ " Robbie protested, "what are you-??"

Ana's head snapped back around towards him, and she silenced him with a gold-tinted glower. "Stay _down_ , Robbie." 

Robbie's jaw hung open, and his eyes bored into her skull in desperation, but she didn't wait for another contradiction from any of them. Turning towards the hollow, she wiped the dried blood away from her nose and strode through the mud, holding her hands open at her sides, palms facing towards the hollow. The ache in her back magnified, right where her wings used to be, and as she came to a halt between her family and the hollow, as the roots pulled the monster's husk all the way into the cavern of the tree, Ana reached deep into her mind and found another memory.

She remembered another forest. Larger, older, full of life... and full of dissenters who spoke against the Queen.

She remembered standing before a hollow not unlike the one before her now. 

She remembered it  _burning._

A feverish heat surged through Ana's body. Her cheeks flushed, her throat tightened, her fingertips trembled with a seething power she hadn't felt in a long, long time. She narrowed her eyes at the hollow, and a wind stirred around her feet, pushing the mud and silt away from her and whipping her hair around her face. The wind frothed into a cyclone, and the light in the hollow flickered dangerously and then died as the flare went out behind her. 

And yet, a light remained - a light in her hands and eyes, a golden light that limned her body and shot spirals of her aura up towards the canopy-

The memory tugged at Ana's bones, and she craned her head back, held her breath-

She remembered a forest, burning at her feet-

She remembered a power churning in her chest, the power of the Queenscourt, the power of a Weaver - the power to  _destroy-_

Ana felt a tremor in the earth as the hollow's roots wound themselves around the tree, and a pulsing groan shook the trees. She felt the forest waking, but she also felt herself rising to meet it; she was stronger, she was fae and the forest was just a  _forest._ It would do as forests always did and it would fucking  _burn_ beneath her. 

She remembered her fury and magic, scouring the earth-

Golden.

Wild.

Enormous as the forest.

Ana lifted her arms, splayed her fingers, and screamed. Her power raced back inside her with a rumbling sound like a roll of thunder, the wind died with a hiss, and the forest went dark around her as her light surged in and  _down,_ down into the ground-

And she snapped her arms forward, and her magic erupted like a dying star, and a blinding, incandescent column of flame engulfed the hollow.

 

* * *

 

Robbie heard the elves scream behind him, and then he couldn't hear anything but a ringing in his ears.

A concussive wave of force coursed through the air, and the wind whipped violently around him like a hurricane, with his mother standing at its eye. A light as blinding as the sun exploded inside the hollow, roaring into a pillar of fire as thick as the hollow was wide, a scathing tower that obliterated the canopy and blazed higher, higher into the night sky-

He could only stand to look at the fire for a second before its light became too much to bear.

A blistering heat consumed the forest, and Robbie doubled over and shielded Glanni's body and prayed the storm would die before it tore them all to pieces.

 

* * *

 

Ana collapsed to one knee, her eyelids fluttering in a desperate effort to stay open, to stay focused, even as the ringing in her head reached an agonizing pitch. Blood streamed down from her nose and ears, and the taste of copper in her mouth was overwhelmed with the taste and smell of smoke. The wind crackled with arcs of pure, bristling gold, ripping into the hollow's roots as the conflagration began spreading to the other trees.

She saw the hollow crumble beneath _her_ fury, _her_ fire-

And she saw the veins in her arms blackening, discoloration spreading up her wrists and past her elbows, all the way up to her neck. Ana's aura boiled beneath her skin, and her arms turned black as soot, and a pain like a scalding steel rod jammed its way squarely between her ribs-

Ana's wards  _screamed_ for her to stop. They begged her to reign her magic in, but no dam could stem the flood she'd unleashed.

It _had_ to burn - all of it. 

She pushed herself until she could barely see, until dark spots flickered at the corners of her eyes. Hands shaking, she closed her fists, and the fire snuffed out with a deafening gasp. Ana fell forward onto her hands and knees, dry heaving and delirious from pain. It felt like a vise was clamped down and crushing her entire skeleton, but she forced herself to look up at the hollow.

Where once there stood a towering tree, all that remained was a smoldering ruin. The upper trunk and crown were completely incinerated, and the surviving roots and wood had been turned to charcoal. Small fires still burned on the other trees, and between the hollow's roots, but-

The hollow was still.

The forest was silent. 

Ana looked down at her trembling arms, and her skin bore the same blackened shade as the hollow. Her limbs have out beneath her, and she slumped to the ground on her side, the very act of breathing taking an enormous effort. Her vision went blurry as she looked in her peripheral vision up at the empty hole in the canopy her magic had created, and against the black she caught a glimpse of a handful of stars peeking out from behind the cloud cover.

The warmth in the hollow faded, and Ana shivered as the early winter cold descended on the forest. 

She'd almost allowed her eyes to close when she heard the sound of footsteps stumbling over to her. She tried lifting her head up to see, but a spike of burning pain through her neck stopped the attempt halfway, and she let out a weak hiss as Robbie skidded to a halt and dropped down next to her. He gingerly rolled her over onto her back, his face contorted with alarm.

"Mom," he gasped, "what the  _fuck_ was - what did you just do??" He stared at her blackened arms in horror, visibly hesitant to touch her. "Oh, gods, your arms - Mom, you're hurt, you're hurt  _bad-"_

Ana licked her dry, chapped lips, slowly shaking her head. "Tell... tell Loftskip to... call the ship." Her eyelids grew heavy, and she couldn't find the energy to focus on Robbie's face. Staring up at the night sky, she felt a cold breeze waft across her face, and the corner of her lips tugged into an exhausted smile. "I'll be... I'll be fine," she croaked, "I promise... sweetheart. I'll be fine. It's done... it's done." 

"Mom-!" 

Robbie might as well have been shouting from all the way across the forest, for as well as Ana could hear him.

She stared up at the sky for just a few seconds longer before her eyelids grew too heavy, and she surrendered to the pull of unconsciousness.

The last thing she felt before the darkness claimed her was the gentle kiss of snowflakes against her face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S ABOUT *DAMN* TIME THAT ALL GOT FIXED
> 
> HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO *BOY*
> 
> ~
> 
> Okay, so, I mentioned it at the end of the last chapter, but through a combination of my dad's suggestions and insistence from my friends to continue this story, I am actually going to start working on an adaptation of Goblin Men. It'll be a trilogy (plus a separate collection of short stories/a prequel/art/whatever), following the same plot (more or less), but it won't be connected to Lazytown anymore. I've determined a new setting, decided on new character names (obviously), and have been developing the story in more detail and depth. And trying desperately to figure out alternate book titles. Somehow I nailed the title of the third book and nothing after that has been as good.
> 
> Hopefully, those of you who loved this fanfic will stick around to see what the adaptation looks like. I'm going to be working on it once I finish the last chapter of NTCBOTS, and I'll be working with my dad to set up my own website to host content and possibly also a Patreon. In the meantime, updates will probably be available on one of my two tumblr blogs, [Teejay Kaye](https://teejay-kaye.tumblr.com/) and [Sportatiddy](https://sportatiddy.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Only one more chapter to go after this! :D


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY DAD

She hadn't dreamed so deeply in decades, and her subconscious was _ravenous_.

It took time for her to recognize the space she occupied. It stretched thinly across the bottom of her mind, somewhere between the conscious and unconscious, like flecks of mud cast up by the rolling wheels of a carriage. She remembered once knowing every inch of it, once walking across it in her sleep to brush against the minds of fellow fae. Instead of darkness, she remembered luminous trees, warm and welcoming, and a watchful pair of eyes shadowing her every move.

A small, fearful part of her expected the eyes to be there again. She'd been careful not to tread here, in the fae dream-space; her son could afford to dream on occasion, but her power was too easily noticeable without her conscious mind to restrain it. A dream was costly - no, a dream was _deadly_ , to a runaway fairy.

She drifted, unmoored in a vast, empty ocean, for what felt like years. She braced against the heavy fog and the swirling snow, waiting for the Courts to find her and sink their teeth back into her spine. Some infinitesimal part of her wanted to surrender to their call; she didn't have the strength to fight, not anymore, not after-

After-

_No-_

No, she was - she _was_ strong enough, she couldn't give in, she _couldn't_ \- not after everything she'd done to get away-

As she fought for consciousness, the dream changed.

At the farthest edges of the dream-space, two fluttering wings rose up out of the dark. She spotted them first in the corners of her eyes, and then they grew to enormous proportions, filling the sky with their iridescent scales and tufts of delicate fuzz. A head of long, coiled black hair took shape between the wings, and suddenly she found herself floating or falling in front of the rising figure, a tiny speck lost among the clouds of snow and ash.

As she fell, the darkness congealed into a familiar face: breathtakingly beautiful, ebony-skinned and radiant with power.

 _Royal_ power.

All around her, the wind roared to a deafening crescendo. A scream died in her throat as the Queen stared down at her with owlish cunning. Titanic hands slowly cupped beneath her as she plummeted through the storm, fingers rising out of the ash like the bars of a cage. The Queen's face twisted into a venomous scowl, and her lips parted and gave way to a single thunderous word that reverberated through the dream, obliterating all other sound and thought.

**_"BETRAYER-"_ **

The Queen lingered on that last syllable, her voice distorting until it was indistinguishable from the howling wind. Her jaw stretched farther than it should have, and her skull split down the middle like a torn piece of paper. Her body and wings melted away like candle wax, and from within her vanishing visage emerged a new but equally familiar face.

Porcelain-white, with only two holes in a mask where eyes should be.

She shouldn't have felt so afraid, looking up at Loftskip's face, but-

The claws closing in around her were slick with red. There was no light in Loftskip's eyes, only empty darkness. Curls of smoke joined the ash and snow, filling her throat and choking the breath out of her lungs, and she tasted gasoline and copper. Loftskip's claws glistened in the dark, carving through the storm towards her falling form with deadly accuracy - a hunter's accuracy.

For one single, terrifying moment, she was falling straight into Loftskip's waiting claws with no way to save herself. Then, she blinked, and Loftskip wasn't there anymore; instead it was like a gigantic mirror had been placed far above her, and it stole her reflection and made it physical, gave it a life of its own.

Time seemed to slow as she stared in mute horror up at herself. Her face was - different. Alien. It wasn't the face that her son had seen as a child, nor the hands that cradled him, healed Glanni, built the glamours around the house in Lazytown. Her wings shone brilliant in the storm, her body gilded in Queenscourt robes. Her eyes were cold and implacable, and her foreign gaze bored through her skull like an iron dagger.

Paralyzed with fear, she tried to close her eyes, but couldn't. All she could do was gasp for breath as she fell, though her lungs only seemed to grow emptier with each passing second.

She fell into her waiting hands, and-

Her palms dissolved like smoke, and as she fell through them, the storm obscured her towering Queenscourt figure. The bracingly cold wind vanished with an audible gasp, and she landed on her back against something tangible and firm. The impact knocked the remaining air out of her lungs, and black spots swarmed her vision, turning the world to a mottled haze as she croaked for breath.

She had no way of guessing how long she laid there on the ground, feeling slowly returning to her limbs. The dream slowed around her, condensing into the solid form of walls and a ceiling, old wooden furniture and a soft carpet. When her vision fully returned, she felt a flicker of recognition as she took in the room; the orange-furred chair, the stained counters in the kitchenette, the shattered window glass covering the floor.

Disconcertingly bright light filtered through the curtains, blurred by a thick mist seeping up through the floorboards. The sweet smell of morning rain filled her nose and throat, and with each breath she took the scent reinvigorated her. She curled her fingers into the carpet, and closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to bask in the stillness.

"You sure got yourself into one hell of a mess, didn't you?"

Her eyes shot open, and she realized with a start that she wasn't alone in the room anymore.

A man crouched at her side, his long black hair pulled into a messy ponytail. His suntanned skin, blue eyes, and weathered cargo jacket were immediately familiar, and the sound of his gravelly voice filled her with an almost unbearable ache. Her brow furrowed as she searched her memory for his name, and as soon as it returned, her heart flooded with remorse and yearning.

Her mouth floundered open uselessly for a moment before she found her voice.

"...Rowan??"

He smiled warmly. "Hey, Ana."

At the sound of her own name, more memories came racing back; the forest, the monster, the _fire_. Something tugged at the back of her mind - another memory, deeply hidden beneath the fog of the dream - but she couldn't bring herself to do more than acknowledge it. Not while he was right there in front of her, close enough to touch-

Rowan extended a calloused hand. Ana took it hesitantly, worried that she would pass through him like smoke, but he easily pulled her off the ground, catching her with an arm around her waist. She ignored the glass biting into the soles of her feet and wrapped her arms around him, clutching his shoulders and burying her face into his shoulder with a restrained sob.

"You can't stay here," Rowan murmured into her hair.

"I know," she whispered breathlessly, "I know, I just-" She pulled away slowly, brushing her fingers across his cheekbones and lips, feeling the crease of his smile, the curve of his jawline, the subtle indentation of his dimples. Her memory of him was so crisp she could almost trick herself into believing he was really there, standing in front of her, and in that moment, all she wanted to do was hold onto that memory for just a little while longer.

"...Robbie looks like you," she said, voice cracking. "He's grown and he looks like you - he has your hair, your eyes-"

Rowan lifted his hand and laid his palm against Ana's, knitting their fingers together. He gently kissed the space between her eyes, and it sent a shiver down her spine. "You have to go back to him," Rowan whispered, leaning her forehead to hers. "You can't stay in this place. It'll kill you, you _know_ that."

"Rowan-"

"Ana," he urged, "you have to go."

She clenched her jaw, struggling to control her breathing as her eyes watered. Before she could get another word in, a low cracking sound echoed through the air, and it felt like the world tilted, ever so slightly. Rowan looked upwards, and Ana unwittingly followed his gaze, her eyes leaving him entirely and locking onto the ceiling above. The wooden boards crumbled away, falling upwards into a gaping dark hole. Roots slowly crept out of the darkness, spreading across the ceiling and down the walls, shedding moss and dirt down upon Ana's head. Moths and butterflies fluttered among the growing shadows, and the room grew cold around her.

She tried to hold on tighter to Rowan's hand, but her fingernails only dug into her palm. When she looked back down from the ceiling, Rowan was gone.

And yet, she still wasn't alone.

Standing on the other side of the room was - herself.

The hairs on the back of Ana's neck stood on end as she met her own hollow gaze. Cloaked in a Weaver's garments, wings tucked neatly at her sides, the Queenscourtier with _her_ face glared from across the room. They stared each other down in silence, even as Rowan's words repeated in Ana's head, and the room grew colder.

Then, in sudden contrast to the cold, a warmth blossomed in Ana's palm.

She glanced down to see a tiny flame manifest in her hand, and she tasted smoke in the back of her throat.

Her doppelganger's eyes widened, and she mouthed, _don't_.

Ana drew in a slow, shallow breath, and as her eyes filled with tears, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

She exhaled and relaxed her hands. The flame licked up her arms and through shuttered eyes she saw her doppelganger's skin blacken and crack. First her wings crumbled to ash, and then her fingers, and she opened her mouth with a soundless scream as smoke billowed up through her mouth and nostrils. Her eyes turned bright as lit embers before she shuddered and fragmented, falling into a pile of soot and charred fabric.

Ana felt the dream convulse.

Then the flames washed over her eyes, and the dream burned around her.

 

* * *

 

Ana woke to the sound of wind scraping against the walls, and the familiar smell of clean cotton and fruit.

The vividness of her dream melted away into a fog of dull pain and sore muscles. Her body was wracked by fatigue and an uncomfortable itchiness, but for the moment she focused on breathing. Her lungs felt compressed, and her every inhale scratched her throat, but she settled into a strained rhythm.

Groggily, she blinked her eyes open. The airship seemed anchored, its engine barely registering any louder than a soft purr, and with the exception of dim bulbs in the ceiling, the only light came through the windows from occasional flashes of distant lightning. Scattered shapes littered the floor; blankets, pillows, a few neatly folded stacks of clothes. Ana sluggishly turned her head, trying to see more of the ship, and as she did she spotted movement.

She found Loftskip standing by the couch, leaning over two motionless bodies. Ana first noticed Robbie sprawled out on his belly, softly snoring, but it was the presence of

Sportacus underneath him that caught her eye. The two of them were fast asleep, and Loftskip was in the midst of draping a blanket over them, doing her best to straighten it out with just one hand.

Ana made the mistake of trying to sit up. She tried to muffle her cry of pain, but Loftskip's head shot up, and she immediately dropped the blanket and made a beeline to Ana's bed. Her shoulders bunched up anxiously, Loftskip took Ana's shoulder and eased her back down to the bed.

"Ana - Ana, please don't try to move," she insisted. "You've barely even started to heal."

Grimacing, Ana sank back down onto the pillow. "How long have I...?"

"Almost four days," Loftskip answered, sitting on the left side of the bed. "You had us worried. Glanni and Íþró woke up long before you did."

Ana's eyes widened. "They're awake??"

Loftskip made a noncommittal noise and tilted her flattened hand back and forth. "'Awake' is putting it a bit optimistically." She paused, rubbing her hand over the back of her neck. "...they're like you were. Skittish, exhausted... unsure of where they are, who _we_ are. Sportacus and Robbie have been able to get a little soup broth into them, but they've mostly slept." Her eyes lingered on Ana, and her shoulders slumped as though she were letting out a heavy breath. "They're... mending, physically. Better than you seem to be, at that. Robbie didn't want to try healing your injuries until you'd regained consciousness-"

"Good," Ana coughed. Her eyes trailed down to her arms, and as she'd expected, the skin of her arms was entirely black. Her skin crawled, and she doubted she'd have the strength to so much as lift a hand. "It would've been a waste of his efforts. There's no - there's no healing this."

Loftskip's chest puffed outwards, and Ana sensed she'd been on the verge of speaking, but her posture deflated, and her voice came out soft and hesitant. "Are you certain?"

It took considerable effort to nod. "I'm sure," Ana lisped, pinching her lips at the taste of stale blood on the roof of her mouth. "Power like that comes at a price." Guilt stirred in her stomach, but she refused to bow to it. She'd known what she was doing. Survival was more than she deserved. "A price I was more than willing to pay." Swallowing painfully, she rolled her head to the side, looking away from Loftskip for the first time since she'd woken. "I'll heal, eventually. Even if my magic won't."

For a minute, Loftskip was silent. Ana thought she might leave, but instead she felt a hand graze her cheek, gently nudging Ana's head back around to face her. Ana bit the inside of her lip as Loftskip ran her thumb across her cheek, smearing a trail of dampness that lingering underneath Ana's eyes - dampness she hadn't noticed until just now.

"You were crying in your sleep," Loftskip murmured. The words almost sounded like a question, but they mostly just sounded surprised.

Ana breathed slowly. "...bad dream." She refused to elaborate further, and thankfully, Loftskip removed her hand and left the subject alone. Uncomfortable with both the silence and the attention on herself, Ana looked at Loftskip's right shoulder, where the torn fabric had been sutured shut, and asked, "Is that... permanent?"

Loftskip shrugged. "It would usually be a straightforward repair, but... I think my arm was destroyed along with the hollow." She gestured vaguely at herself. "My crystal's energy won't adhere to common fabric. I'd need elvish cloth, and that's... not easy to acquire out here." She gave a halfhearted shrug. "I'll manage. I'm certainly doing better than _you_ , so please try to reserve your energy for worrying about yourself."

Maybe it was the dim lighting in the room.

Maybe it was Ana's distracted state of mind, or the crippling fatigue.

Either way, she didn't notice Loftskip's hand inching towards hers until she felt the leather of her glove sliding against her knuckles.

She flinched away at first, but she composed herself, drew in a slow breath, and shifted her hand to meet Loftskip's. It only took a moment for their hands to find their place.

Loftskip's fingers gently closed around Ana's hand, and Ana reciprocated with what limited strength she possessed.

After a minute or so of silence, Ana murmured, "What did you... how did you explain this to the townsfolk?"

"Wildfire," Loftskip answered. "Robbie told Bessie most of the truth, and she did the talking for us." She paused. "I'm sure the children have at the very least guessed what really happened. They were here briefly with Sportacus, bringing blankets and food." Loftskip glanced towards the catatonic figures on the floor. "Milford and Bessie lent us the mattresses. Otherwise the townsfolk have kept a respectable distance - and haven't asked questions."

Ana nodded slowly. Her eyelids fluttered, and Loftskip let out a sigh, giving her hand a squeeze before letting go and pulling the blankets up over Ana's chest. Ana grimaced, but didn't tell Loftskip to stop. She waited until Loftskip had stood up before she managed a raspy, "Thank you."

Loftskip cocked her head to the side. "For what?"

"I don't know. For everything. For being a-" The word _friend_ sat heavily on the tip of her tongue. She wasn't sure if she could bring herself to say it out loud quite yet. Biting the inside of her cheek, she amended, "For being there for them."

Loftskip made a noise that sounded like a short laugh. "Of course, Ana." She hesitated a moment before she laid her hand against Ana's temple and gently brushed the hair away from her face. "Please try and sleep some more. I'll let the boys know you regained consciousness come the morning."

Once again, the overwhelming pull of unconsciousness drove its hooks into Ana's mind. Darkness clouded her vision as she closed her eyes and leaned into Loftskip's caress. The leather was rough against her cheek, but it had a comforting warmth - a warmth that slowly spread across her whole body, and almost, _almost_ masked the constant itch under her skin.

Ana drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let herself sink to into the pillow.

She fell asleep in a matter of seconds - and this time, her slumber was bereft of all dreams.

 

* * *

 

Consciousness... _stung_.

He dimly recalled having woken up before now, but not like this, not with so much... _tactile_ awareness. He came to with a ragged gasp, hypersensitive to every fiber of cotton touching his skin. The smothering weight of blankets drove him into a panic, but the more he struggled, the tighter they wrapped around him, almost like they were dragging him down into the ground.

There were too many lights and sounds and _things_ outside his body, and not enough - not enough _within_. It felt like some part of his mind had dislocated, and his every attempt to make sense of his surroundings only exacerbated the wound. White noise filled his ears each time he tried to reach out to his other half, echoing back through an empty mind that was his, and his alone-

Gritting his teeth, he threw himself to one side, inadvertently slamming his head into the ground with a dull _thud_.

All his strength fled his body in an instant, leaving him sprawled helplessly on the ground, limbs tangled in blankets. He squinted up at stark white walls, the ground cold against his back. Pallid light oozed in through a set of tall windows, washing out the texture of his surroundings; he could only make out silhouettes of furniture, mostly in shades of off-white and pale blue.

He unwittingly let out a low, pained groan.

One of the silhouettes moved. It seemed to split apart, extruding arms and legs from the larger rectangular whole. The figure stumbled across the floor, upside-down face full of small scratches and mussy blonde hair and unfamiliar eyes. A series of incomprehensible noises spilled from their mouth as they knelt down beside him, and his heart skipped every third beat as frantic uncertainty coiled in the pit of his stomach.

He squirmed away from the stranger's hands, jaw clenched and breaths erratic. The figure reached for him, then hesitated, retracting their arms and saying something else he couldn't understand. Distrust boiling in his veins, he narrowed his eyes and croaked in the only language he could remember, _"No."_

The stranger's blue eyes widened. They bit their lip, pausing a moment before they tried to touch him again. He shrank away, struggling up to his arms and knees, but they were quicker, laying their hands against his shoulders and tugging the blankets away from him. The feeling of cold air brushing his skin broke the tension in his body, and he slumped forward onto their hands with a shiver.

Still reeling from the relief of no longer drowning in cotton, he almost didn't hear the stranger whisper, _"Níu?"_

The word itself held no meaning for him, but the voice that spoke it-

His brow furrowed. Something tugged at the back of his mind, struggling to make itself known through the fog clouding his thoughts. The stranger waited a moment before speaking again, in the same half-remembered language that felt at home on his tongue. _"Níu, it's me. It's Sportacus. You're safe. You're home."_

Most of the words glossed over his mind like a film of oil laying on the surface of a pond, but one of them sank in, resonated in two, three, four different voices at once:

 _Home_.

His other half had spit the word at him like curse, dozens of times, back in the-

In the-

His breath hitched. He heard the stranger murmur something, but he couldn't hear them anymore. Gaze dropping to the floor, he leaned heavily against their hands, not caring about the warmth or their presence or the unfamiliar white walls anymore. Blurred memories swarmed his head, shades of deep brown and green, freezing cold and silt and the smell of moss and decay-

He'd been in the forest, and his other half-

Something had come for them, come for _him_ \- something horrible and pale and off-white like the walls, something with _claws_ -

The memory of claws wrapping around his arm flooded to the forefront of his mind, along with a horrible aching feeling like sandpaper under his skin. A voice had called to him in the same language the stranger used, only it wasn't the stranger's voice - it was something, someone else. They'd cut through the cold, cut through the deep blue that belonged to his other half, cut through the crimson of his crystal-

His _crystal_ -

He clutched at his chest, abruptly short of breath as he noticed the absence of a weight on his chest. He was distantly aware of the stranger's arms closing around him, their face pressing into his hair. The rhythm of their voice sounded so achingly familiar, but he couldn't think past the emptiness in his core. He'd never been without his crystal's warmth; it was his armor and bandage and weapon all at once, constant and unwavering.

And now it was _gone_.

 

* * *

 

Still groggy from sleep, Robbie sat up on the couch, his side aching where Sportacus had accidentally elbowed him in his haste to reach his cousin.Rubbing his eyes, Robbie leaned over the back of the couch, picking at a fraying cushion thread as Sportacus tried to console the distraught elf tangled in the blankets.

Robbie couldn't make out a word Sportacus said, but he snapped to attention as soon as he heard Íþró speak. The older elf struggled against his cousin's touch with a fervor that neither Íþró nor Glanni had displayed in the past few days. It was hard to tell if Íþró understood Sportacus's reassurances, but once Sportacus managed to get his cousin to calm down and stop squirming away from him, Robbie's heart fluttered with relief.

He draped his arms over the back of the couch, resting his face on top of the cushions with a heavy sigh. The airship's engine hum filled the room, overlapping with Sportacus's soft hushing and the weak whimpers caught up behind Íþró's teeth. Between the early morning light and the flurries of snow still drifting past the window, the drowsy atmosphere tempted Robbie back to sleep, but something kept nagging at the back of his mind.

Slowly, Robbie became aware of a different sound, nearly inaudible through the white noise; rapid, nasal breathing, growing louder by the second.

Lifting his head, he glanced over his shoulder to the bed across the room. Loftskip was nowhere to be seen, but the bed where his mother had been lying catatonic for half a week immediately caught his eye. Robbie's remaining grogginess evaporated, and despite his legs still feeling half asleep, he hobbled to his feet, heart pounding with worry. Ana's jaw was clenched tight with every breath, and Robbie didn't trust her lungs to not give out after everything she'd been through in the forest.

Before he could even take a step, however, her breathing clipped off with a sharp gasp, and her eyes flew open.

Robbie would've run straight to her side, if it wasn't for the scream that came from behind him.

 

* * *

 

He knew two things when he woke; he was alone, and he was in _agony_.

Phantom pain burst through his stomach, sharp as a knife. The taste of copper filled his mouth as he bit down hard on his tongue, and his body jackknifed in a desperate attempt to get away from - _everything_. He sat bolt upright, throwing himself to the side and letting out a strained scream.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he forced himself onto his knees. It felt like a knife was lodged in his abdomen, but his hand didn't find anything but skin. His legs weren't strong enough to support him, and his bare feet slipped out on the cold floor beneath him, bringing him down painfully on his hip. With one eye swollen half shut by cuts and bruises, he could barely make out his surroundings. Everything was vague shapes, strange noises and bright lights, impossible to tell apart from one another and all of them utterly foreign and untrustworthy.

Something was screaming out in the open space, something shrill and high-pitched that he recognized - just enough to know it meant _danger_.

He had to get out, get away, _run_ -

Pushing his back up to the glass, he scratched his cracked nails against the floor. A shock ran up his spine as his magic broke free inside him like a brackish flood through a fractured dam. His veins warmed, his aura tensed, and the shadows in the room gathered towards him.

Without his other half, and without _her_ -

He was _nothing_ without them.

All he could do was run.

 

* * *

 

Robbie jerked up ramrod straight, nerves on fire as Glanni's scream splintered the stillness.

The sound of Sportacus's crystal going off, muffled slightly by fabric, didn't help the situation, either. Sportacus doubled over, wrapping his arms tighter around his cousin out of habit as Glanni scrambled on his hands and knees away from his mattress, pressing his back up to the window with a heaving breath. Robbie hurried between them, holding a hand out in each direction.

"No sudden moves," he whispered.

Neither Sportacus nor Íþró made a sound. Glanni clasped his arms over his bare chest defensively, eyes darting wildly back and forth. It didn't escape Robbie's notice how the shadows bent and contorted around him, cutting through the morning sunlight and surrounding Glanni like a shroud. His hands trembled, clawing for purchase on the glass as he tried and failed to stand up.

"Glanni," Robbie began carefully, "can you hear me?"

High-pitched breaths squeaked past Glanni's clenched teeth, and he either didn't hear Robbie, or didn't bother acknowledging he had. He grabbed the sides of his head, shadows licking up his neck, and he mumbled incomprehensibly, his words tinged with what sounded like bastardized Elvish. He let out a choked snarl, and one of the shadows around his shoulders turned jagged, scraping the glass and leaving a spiderweb of thin cracks behind.

Robbie opened his mouth to speak again, but he was interrupted by a loud thud and a low hiss of pain. He tore his gaze away from Glanni, looking over his shoulder and finding to his shock that his mother's bed was empty, and instead, she was on her knees beside it, propping herself up against the frame and breathing heavily.

"Glanni," she said firmly, "be calm."

Baring his teeth, Glanni curled inwards on himself, shaking his head furiously. Ana grimaced and forced herself to her feet, swaying unsteadily as she made her way across the ship. The wailing of Sportacus's crystal dully filled the room, slowly weakening until it went silent. Robbie stared in mute shock as his mother limped past him, giving him only a cursory glance before she knelt down in front of Glanni. She slowly extended her hand, laying it over Glanni's whitened knuckles, and whispered, "Be calm. You're not in danger here."

 _"No,"_ Glanni whined, flinching away and covering his hands with his face.

"Glanni," Ana persisted, framing his face with her hands and tugging his fingers away from his eyes. "Look at me."

Slowly, Glanni's bloodshot eyes peeked out from behind his fingers, and Robbie's breath caught in his throat. The ship grew so quiet that the only sounds left to be heard were

Glanni's clenched breaths and the rhythmic hum of the engine beneath their feet. Robbie rested a hand on the back of the couch, fingers twitching nervously as he waited for some kind of reaction from Glanni; some acknowledgement of Ana's words, some proof that he wasn't all gone.

"You know me," Ana murmured, scooting closer and cupping her hands around Glanni's. "You know you're safe with me."

It seemed like even the airship was holding its breath. Glanni's burst of adrenaline slowly ran its course, and while his eyes didn't quite meet Ana's gaze, he didn't try to pull his hands away again. Ana took his wrist, gently rubbing her thumb along the veins, and Glanni let out a soft, croaking gasp.

Just then, there was a shine of color where Ana's fingertips met Glanni's skin. Robbie only saw it for a fraction of a second before it was lost in the sunlight.

Most of the color came off dark blue, like a shadow - like Glanni.

But just for a moment - so quick and slight Robbie might've imagined it - Glanni's color was joined by a tepid shimmer of gold.

 

* * *

 

That sound-

He _knew_ that sound.

His ears pricked up, flicking towards the noise, muffled as it was by cloth and distance. The sound rankled in his mind, like a scab scratched to the point of bleeding and now gushing profusely, spilling over the blank spaces of his memory-

A wailing like metal against glass. A voice that was his own, and yet... not.

It came from the stranger's chest, tucked into a pocket in his clothes. Their arms trapped him, and he might have fought back if it weren't for the soft keening that seemed to pull at his bones. He squirmed one arm up between them, weakly grasping at the front of their hoodie, the feeling of something not quite cold and not quite warm drawing his fingers to a zippered chest pocket.

"...Níu?" the stranger murmured, their voice distant and muffled as if underwater.

They cut themselves off halfway through a word, their body growing still. As his numb fingers fumbled with the zipper, their hand inched over to join him, slowly unzipping the pocket and exposing a soft glow within. They fished out a smooth oval crystal, translucent with a sheen of blue across its surface.

Two voices crept up out of his memory. A child's voice, and a man's.

_"This is gonna be my crystal?"_

_"When it's grown. But it'll still be part of mine, even when it's yours."_

_"So you can find your way back? When you go?"_

_"Always."_

The voices spilled across his mind, sending a chill down his spine. He didn't realize until the memory began to fade away that the stranger had moved away from him. It was only by a few inches, but the space between them felt palpable as the stranger offered up the crystal in one hand, their shoulders pulled inwards and brow furrowed. Deaf to the world around them, he slowly wrapped his hands around the crystal.

He'd barely touched his palms to the surface before an explosion of warmth raced up through his arms. His muscles seized, bracing for pain, but none came; he only felt a tingling across his body, like a layer of skin peeling away, and taking with it all the weight that'd been squeezing the thoughts out of his brain.

The child's voice whispered in his inner ear.

_"You're coming back, right?"_

The breath choked off in his lungs. His eyes slowly made their way back to the stranger's face-

No. No, no, no. Not a stranger's face.

Words raced through his head; nicknames that used to fall from his tongue with ease, so familiar he didn't even have to think.

_"litli frændi"_

_"lítillblá"_

And-

_"...Tíu?"_

The boy's - the man's - his _cousin's_ face paled. His eyes went wide, and his mouth hung open, shallow breaths creeping past his lips.

"You-" he said tentatively. "Íþró, do you-"

Whatever his cousin said next missed his ears entirely. At the sound of his name, a ringing sounded in the back of his skull. The memory of the last time he'd heard that young boy say his name solidified in his mind, and with it a terrible, gut-wrenching guilt.

He'd lied. He'd said he would come back, and he didn't.

The corners of his eyes grew hot and wet with tears.

"I-" he croaked. His tongue felt leaden in his mouth, and his voice didn't sound right to his ears, but as soon as the words began, he couldn't make them stop. "I'm - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I meant to-" His hands curled around the crystal, cupping it to his chest. Its weak, keening cry pierced his ribs, and his shoulders shook violently as he stammered, "I meant to come back, I never - I never wanted - I'm sorry, Tíu, I'm - I'm-"

A painful ache filled his throat. Tears blurred his vision, and when his voice finally stumbled his cousin reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Íþró, it wasn't your fault," Tíu said, voice cracking. "I know you would've come back if you could, I-" He drew in a deep breath, and his eyebrows drew together firmly. "It's _not_ your fault."

The crystal slipped from his trembling hands, hitting the mattress without a sound. He grabbed the sides of his head as a visceral series of images and sounds crashed through his mind; mud and filthy water, concrete and iron bars, darkness and blood and voices _screaming_. "I - I _hurt_ you-"

 _"You_ didn't," Tíu interrupted. "That creature wasn't you, it was just - just a lot of bad memories, a lot of magic that went wrong. It. Wasn't. _You."_

"I-" he gasped, unable to stop the tears streaming down his face. "I-"

His cousin pulled him close, hugging him and burying his face into the crook of his neck. His arms laid limp at his sides for a moment, unsure of what to do, but old habits took over quickly. He hugged his cousin in return, his fingers dug into the fabric along his cousin's spine, gripping for dear life as he blinked up at the ceiling, a choked sob snagging in the back of his throat.

Tíu's warmth washed across him- like fire, like sunlight. Like a crystal.

It made his body feel like it was his own again.

 

* * *

 

Glanni tensed as the sound of Íþró crying filled the room. Ana kept her hands on his wrists, ignoring whatever was happening between the elves and maintaining strict concentration on Glanni. Try as she might to coax her aura out, she couldn't summon more than a passing glimmer, and what she _did_ manifest turned a charred, blackened hue the moment it came into contact with the air.

She grimaced. "I can't snap you out of this myself, Glanni," she muttered, "and I can't ask Robbie to try and grapple with the likes of _your_ headspace, so it's on you to come back to us. I hope you're willing to do that."

He didn't meet her gaze. His nostrils flared with quiet, rapid breaths, and he grunted, "Don't know. Don't know."

Ana's brow furrowed. "What don't you know?"

Glanni tilted his head to the side at an uncomfortable angle, rubbing his chin against his shoulder and staring out at empty space away from Ana. Under his breath, he slurred between fae speech and what could be confused for Elvish before he stumbled back into the common human tongue they all shared and murmured, "Don't know if... _safe."_

Ana bit the inside of her cheek, her knuckles whitening with tension. "...Glanni, do you know who I am?"

His breaths hitched, and his eyes slowly found their way to her face. The fervid distrust in his eyes lessened, just a bit. "Always."

A dry ache welled up in Ana's throat. Gritting her teeth, she slowly released her grip on his arms and laid her hands on her lap. Glanni tucked his arms up to his chest, feebly grabbing at his loose t-shirt and shrinking against the window. She debated how to approach the delicate state of Glanni's memories; she couldn't tell how much of her he recognized, which version of her was standing out in his mind.

She got so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost didn't hear the hiss of the door opening behind her.

Glanni's head shot up. His eyes darted behind Ana's shoulder, and he snarled, "I know _you."_

With a startling burst of energy, Glanni threw himself forward on all fours, desperately scrambling past Ana. Without thinking she grabbed his waist, putting all her strength into throwing him off balance. He let out a hoarse whine and toppled to the side, his eyes fixed on the airship door as he frantically screamed, "You took him, you took him, _you took him-!"_

In the corner of her eye, Ana spotted the familiar figure of Loftskip, frozen in the middle of the doorway with a grocery bag in her arm.

"Glanni," she said sharply, _"stop."_

He squirmed weakly, clawing at the floor. "She - she-"

"She won't hurt you," Ana snapped. "And you will _not_ hurt her. Stop and be calm."

"She _took_ him!!" Glanni growled, struggling against her grip.

Grimacing, Ana realized with a sinking feeling that he wasn't listening to her anymore. Shifting with great difficulty onto her knees while keeping a firm grip on Glanni's arm, Ana looked up and hissed, "Loftskip, I need a wall!"

Loftskip stared blankly for a second before shaking herself out of her stupor. With a quick nod, she gestured widely into the air, and with a hiss of compressed air as cracks opened in the floor and ceiling panels. Frosted panes of glass emerged with a drawn-out metallic squeal, meeting in the middle and sealing off a quarter of the ship around Ana and Glanni. The only figure she could still see once the divider closed was the blurred outline of Robbie, standing just on the opposite side of the glass.

He laid a hand against the panes, and she could almost make out the features of his face as he gazed through the translucent surface, but he shortly pulled away, vanishing into the rest of the mottled colors. Ana's shoulders slumped, and she released Glanni, leaning against the ship's front window. As the glass cut them off from their family, it seemed like she and Glanni were the only people left in the world.

She clasped her hands to either side of the bridge of her nose, forcing herself to breathe evenly. Glanni curled into the fetal position on the floor, trembling and mumbling under his breath. A crackling of static sounded above Ana's head, and from the walls of the ship came Loftskip's voice, quiet and tinny. _"Ana, will you be alright in there?"_

Ana pulled her knees up to her chest. "I'll be fine. He won't hurt me." She stared at Glanni's shaking form, her throat tightening as her adrenaline subsided and a flurry of emotions crept up to take its place. "...I think it's best to keep them separated. For now. Glanni's not... rational yet."

_"Very well. Do you need anything?"_

Ana shook her head out of habit, despite the fact that no one could see her. "Just time. He knows who we are, he just... needs to remember how to trust us."

_"...alright. Please be careful, Ana. And let us know if anything changes."_

"I will," she said. The static faded, leaving behind only the muffled sound of voices on the other side of the wall. Ana's eyes fell upon Glanni, and she folded her arms atop her knees, staring him down with no small amount of frustration. "When this is all said and done, Glanni," she muttered sourly, "there are many words I would like to share with you." Her eyelids fluttered heavily, and she dropped her chin to her arms, her gaze unflinching. "I won't leave until then. I _will_ be here when you decide to come back to us."

Glanni gave no answer, and Ana couldn't say she expected one.

Part of her was glad for his silence; her whole body yearned for sleep, though her restless mind wouldn't allow it just yet.

She closed her eyes, rested her forehead on her knees, and allowed herself to forget the world and the passage of time as the storm winds whistled outside.

 

* * *

 

It only figured she would leave for ten minutes, and return to find them at each other's throats once again.

As the glass walls slid into place, barricading Ana and Glanni within a far corner of the ship, Loftskip glanced at the nearest person and said, "Robbie, please enlighten me to what just happened."

Robbie's arms gestured loosely around him, relaying a general sense of confusion. "I - they just woke up, all at once." He waved a hand in Sportacus and Íþró's direction, his brow furrowed with worry. "First Íþró, then my mom, then Glanni. Four days of nothing, and then _bam_ , full-blown panic attacks." He interlocked his hands behind his head, hunching forward and sitting down heavily on the arm of the couch.

Loftskip let him compose himself, turning her attention to the ceiling and tapping into the ship's internal radio. "Ana, will you be alright in there?"

A response came back marred by static. _"I'll be fine, he won't hurt me."_ A pause. _"I think it's best to keep them separated for now. Glanni's not... rational yet."_

Loftskip sighed. She'd gathered as much from the way Glanni reacted upon seeing her. "Very well. Do you need anything?"

_"Just time. He know who we are, he just... needs to remember how to trust us."_

No small part of Loftskip was reluctant to leave Ana alone with Glanni, especially in her state, but she didn't have the heart to argue. "Alright. Please be careful, Ana, and let us know if anything changes."

_"I will."_

The radio went quiet after that. Loftskip's shoulders slumped, and she stood in a distracted daze staring at the glass wall for another minute before she tore her gaze away and walked over to the kitchen unit. She laid the groceries on the table, not bothering to put them away just yet, and leaned tiredly against the back of the nearest chair, steeling herself before she dared acknowledge the situation she'd returned to.

Robbie shuffled his hands nervously on the couch, glancing between Sportacus and Loftskip for a moment before he got up and made his way to the table. Rubbing the side of his face anxiously, he dropped himself into a chair and flopped forward onto the table, arms stretched out and fingers restlessly tapping the wood. Loftskip suppressed a mildly amused snort and rubbed the top of his head. He let out a low groan and mumbled into the table, "Why are they like this? Why are _we_ like this?"

"Gods only know," Loftskip said. A sharp cold pulsed through her chest, the fabric feeling tight and stiff around her crystal as it keened softly for Sportacus's crystal and the distant, fractured remnants of crimson lost in the forest. Her eyes slowly wandered back to her elves, the sound of Íþró's quiet sobs just barely audible from all the way across the ship.

Under her hand, Robbie's head perked up. "...you know, he'll probably recognize you. He remembered Sport pretty quick."

Loftskip observed the subtle clenching of Robbie's fists, the tightening of his body language as he pulled his arms under his head and hunched over the table, averting his gaze.  
She rubbed her fingers through his hair, feeling a knot of tension at his neck that loosened as she patted his shoulder.

"Glanni will remember you, soon," she reassured.

Robbie shrugged. "We'll see." He straightened up and proceeded to rummage through the grocery bags, making a shooing motion towards Loftskip. "Look, I called dibs on moping around _years_ ago. Nobody else gets to jump on my bandwagon, so go hug them or do therapy jumping-jacks or whatever it is you elves do."

Loftskip snorted and left him at the table without another word. She gave a passing look to the glass wall as she walked by, the faintest of sounds audible from within. As she approached the mess of blankets and mattresses near the ship's pilot chair, Sportacus looked up and finally seemed to realize she was there. "Loftskip," he breathed, on the verge of hyperventilating, "he - he remembers-"

"Robbie said," she murmured, crouching down at Sportacus's side. He clutched his cousin to his chest, but Íþró's cries had quieted, and as Loftskip brushed his uncut bangs out of his face, she realized he'd succumbed to sleep again. Half-dried tears stained both their faces, but she focused on her conscious elf for the moment, rubbing her thumb over his damp cheek. "Breathe, Sportacus. He's not going to go anywhere."

He pressed his face into his cousin's hair, squeezing his eyes shut. "That's not-" He cleared his throat, forcibly slowing his breathing. "He thinks it's his fault."

"And we'll remind him that it _isn't_ , in time," Loftskip said calmly. "For now, just let him rest." She glanced over her shoulder, gazing at the dull silhouettes sitting silent and motionless on the other side of the glass wall. "I'll set up another wall. The more privacy and time we give them, the easier their recovery will be. But they _will_ recover."

Sportacus nodded along sluggishly, his eyes red and puffy. "I know, I just... I want this to be over."

"It _is_ over," Loftskip said firmly, standing up and pulling a blanket off the ground and laying it over Sportacus's shoulders. "Make no mistake of that. It was over the moment Ana burned that hollow down."

Sportacus leaned against her leg, acknowledging with an even slower nod.

Loftskip's eyes remained on him a moment, before they wandered past him to the window. She stared out at the dwindling blizzard, firmly reminding herself of the truth in her own words.

It was over.

All that was left to be done was heal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bold of y'all to assume I am physically capable of killing Ana
> 
> (I really wanted to put out everything at once but honestly it's way easier on me to just put out what I have now instead of dragging this out longer than I already have, sorry for the delay on this chapter, the ACTUAL last chapter will be out very soon!)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end.

Days passed around him like a bad trip. One hour he'd be acutely aware of the tiniest of sounds, every misaligned texture of fabric against his skin, and the next five hours after that would be a blank. Every night he woke up in a cold sweat, restless in his own body, phantom sensations from limbs that were never his own biting at the back of his mind. His aura chafed under his skin, slowly piecing itself back together, no rhyme or reason to what memories came back when. Names, faces, tastes, scents, voices... nothing and _no one_ came back all at once.

But what _did_ come back stuck like glue. Things sometimes came creeping in, back when he was... part of that _monstrosity_. The sound of condensation dripping from sewer pipes would trigger a memory of a day drenched in rain, or the smell of dirt would bring back a woodland, or a mountain, or a meadow. Gasoline leaking from above brought back a city, now and again, and voices-

Voices brought back so many things, but they always slipped away. Nothing remained in their collective heads longer than a few minutes, but now... now that he was alone in his mind again, the memories stayed.

After a few days, when the lucidity lasted longer than the blank spaces, he caught himself repeating things under his breathe, when no one was listening.

"Glanni," he mumbled. "Glanni Glaepur. Unseelie, shadowstepper, master criminal." He rubbed both hands down his face. Dates flashed across his mind, places and people and events that used to be his strongest memories. "Ana, summer, Seelie court border, should've killed me when she had the chance. Robbie, spring baby, carriage, car, Lazytown, Latibær, purple blanket, hot chocolate-"

Hot chocolate. He could _smell_ it.

Behind him, the glass wall hissed quietly, and the smell intensified. He shuffled in his blanket, tugging it down off his head and glancing over his shoulder to see Ana standing in the open doorway, her hands cupped around a steaming mug. The yellow sweater she wore offset the shades of bitter black peeking out at the collar and wrists, but even the few inches Glanni could see made his stomach turn.

"I don't suppose I could entice you to come out and have breakfast?" Ana said, approaching and offering the hot chocolate. Glanni extricated his arms from the blanket and accepted, the smell filling his sinuses and prompting a flood of hazily pleasant memories.

He sipped greedily, not minding the burning heat against his tongue. Giving the room beyond the open door a wary look, he caught sight of Robbie in a purple turtleneck and a gigantic blue scarf, and just the barest smudge of dirty blonde hair barely visible from where he sat. Retreating back into his blanket, he muttered, "No. But... thank you for the hot chocolate."

His voice still didn't quite sound like it should. Lighter, scratchier on the consonants, like he wasn't speaking his native tongue and kept catching on words he didn't know.

Ana pursed her lips, leaning down and planting a kiss on his forehead. "...okay. Join us whenever you feel you're ready."

Glanni nodded noncommittally, curling around his mug and embracing its warmth as Ana left the room. Just before the wall closed in her wake, Glanni spotted Robbie on the other side, looking his direction with what Glanni could only guess was disappointment.

He averted his gaze, face burning with shame, staring blankly at the window and his reflection. He could join them, it wouldn't be so hard - just a few steps out the door and he'd be _there_ and so would they-

"Glanni Glaepur," he whispered compulsively. "Ana, Robbie, Lazytown, Latibær, Íþ - Íþr-"

His voice broke.

Damn him, damn everything, damn every _single_ thing-

He couldn't even say his _name_.

No, there'd be no joining. He'd stay exactly where they weren't - where _he_ wasn't.

And that would have to be enough.

 

* * *

 

Robbie wilted when his mother emerged from the side room, bereft of the hot chocolate mug - and bereft of Glanni. "He still doesn't want to come out?"

Ana shook her head. "No, he's... better, but something's still bothering him. He won't tell me what." Her eyes darted for a fraction of a second to her right, to the elves sitting at the table and picking through a platter of fruit. Robbie acknowledged her passing glance with a grimace, but didn't push the subject. Ana slumped down into a chair, bending forward and massaging the back of her neck. "Damn this cold. I can't fathom why you want to go _outside_ today."

With a shrug, Robbie adjusted the scarf around his neck - borrowed from the small supply of winter clothes Sportacus owned. "The fresh air's not bad. You should come out with us."

"And leave Glanni alone?" Ana scoffed. "I don't-"

"Mom," Robbie interrupted, "you've been stuck inside for a week. I think Glanni'll be fine if you step outside for an hour or two." Reaching around the table to the pile of scarves and hats Loftskip had left on one of the chairs, he tossed a hat with two large pom-poms dangling from the sides at his mother. "Not like you're gonna be doing the shoveling, just come out and take a breath of air that _doesn't_ reek of body sweat and burnt cheese," he commented with a pointed look to the elf at his side.

"I _said_ I was sorry," Sportacus muttered. Opposite the table from him, his cousin let out a dry cough of laughter.

A fresh pang of jealousy hit Robbie squarely in the chest, and he squashed it instantly, biting down on his tongue to keep his face from accidentally betraying the unpleasant bitterness coiled in his stomach. Íþró wasn't fully recovered, as far as Robbie could tell - he barely acknowledged anyone aside from Sportacus and Loftskip, though sometimes Robbie caught his gaze lingering on himself or his mother - and while he seemed coherent enough, he barely spoke, even to his cousin.

However, whereas Glanni seemed determined to isolate himself, Íþró at least made an _effort_ to be social and reconnect with his family.

If there was anyone Robbie was mad at, it was Glanni. He could feel it in his mother, too, simmering under the surface, which was part of the reason why he wanted to get her outside for a little while. A distraction could do all of them some good - he didn't know how much more of this silent standoff any of them could take.

Robbie glanced around the table, eyes falling to Loftskip as he searched for a way to lighten the crushing atmosphere in the ship. "Plus, Mom, if you really don't want to walk around outside," he teased, "you could just have Loftskip carry you around."

"Absolutely not," Loftskip and Ana chorused.

Sportacus choked in the midst of a drink of water. Ana gave Robbie a withering look, but the corner of her mouth gave a telltale twitch of a grin as she tugged the hat onto her head. "Only for a little while, Robbie."

"What, you don't want to go trudging around post-blizzard Lazytown for three hours?" Robbie said with a widening grin. He nudged Sportacus's shoulder. "I'm _sure_ your little pack of goblins is already waiting to ambush us."

"Oh, most definitely," Sportacus said with a smile. He grabbed a coat off the back of his chair and tossed it over Robbie's head, snickering as Robbie sputtered and squirmed out from beneath it. Robbie kicked his shin under the table, but his elf either didn't feel it or refused to acknowledge it. "Íþró, any interest in coming outside for a bit?"

The already withdrawn older elf somehow managed to make himself look even smaller. "Not this time, Tíu, I just... am feeling tired." The words came out stilted on his thick accent, as if dubious about their own existence. Robbie raised an eyebrow, thinking to the elf's earlier energy when he woke up that morning, but he kept his mouth shut. Nagging his mother was one thing; he didn't want to deal with this particular elf at the moment.

Sportacus's shoulders slackened, eagerness visibly waning. "...okay." He managed a bright smile. "Get some rest, we won't be gone for long."

Íþró nodded. Loftskip stood and briefly laid her forehead against his temple, murmuring something that Robbie didn't quite hear. Ana headed towards the door first, leaving the elf to knit his fingers into Robbie's hand and tug him close. "Come on," he said, "if I'm here a minute longer, I'm going to go stir crazy."

Robbie rolled his eyes. "Well, we can't have _that_ , can we? You'd probably explode."

Sportacus snickered, pressed a kiss to Robbie's knuckles where no one else could see, and pulled Robbie out the door into the snow.

 

* * *

 

With as much patience as he could muster, he stayed at the table until the others left.

As soon as the door closed behind Loftskip and the ship surrendered to an uneasy silence, Íþró forced himself to his feet and turned around. The glass wall in front of him loomed like a mountain, a seemingly insurmountable obstacle between him and the clarity he desperately needed. He hadn't been able to bring himself to so much as speak to Ana, let alone Robbie - Robbie, who was so, so much older than he remembered, just like Sportacus, older and stronger and _happier_ now.

He'd taken away that old happiness, hadn't he? No matter what his cousin told him, Íþró knew that blame laid on his shoulders.

Part of the blame, at least.

The rest of it sat alone on the other side of the glass.

Steeling himself with a long sigh, Íþró wrapped the blanket tightly around his shoulders like a set of armor and walked up to the wall. Old habits took over, and he brushed his fingers over the glass, feeling it warm up to his touch. The panes split and retreated into the ceiling and floor, leaving only empty space between him and the bundle of blankets huddled up in front of the window, staring out at the mounds of fresh, sunlit snow.

Glanni gave no sign that he realized Íþró was there. There was still a chance he could turn around, wait another day, week, month-

 _No_.

There was already so much distance between them.

Gritting his teeth, Íþró stepped inside. The glass closed behind him with a hiss, and he saw Glanni flinch. After waiting a minute for some kind of acknowledgment or rejection, he quietly announced, "If you want me to leave, say the word, and I will leave."

The bundled figure gave a halfhearted shrug.

Íþró bit the inside of his cheek, taking a hesitant step forward. The floor of the ship in this room felt frigid against his bare feet. He could've sworn there had to be a draft, but from experience he knew that a certain layer of distant cold followed Glanni wherever he went, just like shadows and blood and heartbreak. "You do not need to talk," he murmured, his words awkward on his tongue. "I just... need to get some things off my chest."

Glanni still said nothing. He only stared listlessly out the window as Íþró sat down on the floor next to him. Íþró could only see the outline of his features - his nose, his lips, a hint of eyelashes. Everything else was hidden by the blanket draped like a burial shroud over his head. A half-empty mug sat off to the side, last traces of steam clouding the frost-covered window.

Íþró rubbed his hand over his lips, throat already raw from anxious tension. "Glanni, I'm so sorry," he whispered, shoulders shaking. "I - I _did_ this to us. You and me and - and _Ana_ \- if I had just stayed away, this never would have - we never-" He clipped his own words off with a sharp breath, covering his mouth with both hands and squeezing his eyes shut to compose himself.

In that moment of quiet, the soft sound of rapid breathing that wasn't his own reached his ears. He looked up, and a shiver raced down his spine; Glanni was staring directly at him, brow furrowed, eyes wet with tears that seemed reluctant to fall.

"Why," he croaked, "the _hell_ are you apologizing to me??"

Íþró blinked. "...what??"

Glanni leaned forward abruptly, shedding the blankets. The morning light fell perfectly across him, highlighting a series of thin white scars that lined his arms and shoulders - scars that had never been there before, scars that wove across each other like chains. Íþró could barely breathe as Glanni slammed his fist on the floor and hissed, "I am the _last_ person you should be apologizing to! I knew - I fucking _knew_ what I was getting into with you, but _they_ didn't!"

Panting heavily, he gestured past Íþró at the empty ship. "We've never been perfect, but we always kept them out of it!! _They're_ the ones who deserve your apologies, not me!" He pulled away from Íþró and dragged his hands through his hair, an unfamiliar and heightened hysteria in his eyes. "How can you not see that?! The - the fucking _agony_ we put your cousin through, I felt - I felt _all_ of it, and I know you did, too! We dragged Ana into that - that _thing_ with us, we just left Robbie _alone_ \- they should've left us in that forest, they never should've come for us-"

Something snapped in Íþró. Memories flared up of the forest, the trees, the butterflies - Glanni begging, screaming-

And then breaking. _Breathing_. The silence and stillness, and the smell of the hollow as it burned.

His hands found Glanni's face faster than he could blink. The fairy seized up, wide eyes darting to Íþró's face, but he froze stiff, allowing Íþró's hands to rest against his cheeks. Íþró leaned closer, only just now noticing the dense smattering of new freckles across Glanni's nose and beneath his eyes. "Glanni, listen, _please_. They came for us - that was _their_ choice. They chose us, after - after _everything_ , they still want us here. You understand that, don't you?"

Tears brimmed at the corners of Glanni's dark eyes. "They can't - they _shouldn't-"_

"Glanni," Íþró said desperately, "when I woke up, Sportacus told me-" He ran his tongue over his lips, mouth dry. "He told me it wasn't my fault."

A high-pitched noise of disbelief made it through Glanni's parted lips. " _Bullshit_ , of _course_ it's your fault - it's your fault and it's _my_ fault, we _did this_ to them-!"

"Glanni, that is not - that's not the _point_ ," Íþró interrupted. "Sportacus, Robbie, they're - they're tired. Loftskip's tired, Ana's tired - they're so, _so_ tired of this. I can see it every time I look at them - Ana, I can _feel_ it from her." His lip trembled, his cheeks and eyes burning as his heartbeat thundered in his ears. "I don't - there's no way to go back and change what we did, no way to go back to how it was before, but - I don't _want_ to, Glanni, I _don't_. They're trying so hard to move on, I just - _I_ want to move on." His breath hitched. "And I want - I want you to let yourself move on, too."

A soft, hiccuping cry died in Glanni's throat. His jaw clenched, and he leaned heavily into Íþró's hands, leveling him with a severe look. "I was in your _head_ ," he whispered, his voice hard as stone, "remember??" He turned his face away from the window, his breath hot against Íþró's palm. His eyes glistened with tears, never leaving Íþró's face. "There's something you're not saying. Tell me now, tell me _honestly_ , what you really want - everything, _everything_ you want out of this second chance they've decided we deserve."

Íþró's heart skipped a beat. Every aching want he'd ever suppressed now hovered on the tip of his tongue, invited for the first time to come out into the open.

He wasn't about to waste that opportunity, no matter the consequences. His words came on the softest breath, barely making it past his teeth. "I want to be _whole_." His hands trembled, clammy against the fairy's skin. "I don't want to keep the two halves of my life apart. You - you've always been so out of reach. You always lived one foot out the door... I never questioned, it, but I never..."

His voice cracked.

Glanni still listened, sitting quietly with tears in his eyes, and that silence gave Íþró the last bit of impetus he needed.

"...I want to try again," he said breathlessly. "With you. Gods know that's more than I deserve, and I'd never - I'd _never_ ask you for that, not after everything that's happened, but that's - that's it, Glanni. You, Sportacus, Loftskip - Ana, Robbie, this ship, this town. A home. Just one. And I don't want to keep them out of it, not anymore. I want you-" He brushed his hand softly along Glanni's cheekbone. "-and I want them. No halves, no secrets."

A dozen different outcomes raced through Íþró's mind as his voice trailed off. Revulsion, maybe. Rejection, almost certainly. Silence, a sneer, a soft shake of the head - any of those might've serviced.

He'd prepared himself, braced himself, for anything - except the laughter.

It started quietly, so quiet he didn't even guess what he was hearing at first. It crumbled from Glanni's lips, high-pitched like a distant train whistle, until his whole body was shaking like a man on the verge of a nervous breakdown. The laugh quickly turned hysterical, carrying on in near silence until it became ragged and hoarse, leaving Glanni trembling in Íþró's hands.

Íþró stared in shock, completely caught off guard. "...Glanni?"

A broken grimace of a smile split across Glanni's face. "You... you are something else, you know that?" He smeared a hand over his damp eyes. "You're just - you're an _idiot_. You deserve so much more than... _this_ ," he mumbled, gesturing broadly at himself.

Íþró bit his lip. "Glanni... what do you want out of this?"

He scoffed weakly, but all Íþró could hear in Glanni's tone was exhaustion - no bitterness, no anger. "I want you to know what you're getting into," he muttered, "for once in your damn life. You're not just getting in bed with me, you've got - so, _so_ much else to worry about." His hand slowly found its way to Íþró's wrist, curling tightly as his face turned towards Íþró's palm, his chapped lips brushing against the calloused skin. "Robbie. _Ana_. The collective fury of the universe itself if we even _consider_ trying this bullshit again."

"...Glanni," Íþró said softly. "I gave you an honest answer. All I ask is you give me the same."

Glanni's jaw clenched visibly. He gave Íþró a side-eyed look, his lips pressing together into thin lines. "...I'm not leaving them until they make me. I'll deal with what I have to in order to make things right, but I want - I want to stay." His breathing slowed, and Íþró could almost trick himself into believing he could hear the slowing of Glanni's heartbeat as well. "And I'm... tired of running."

A soaring high of relief rippled through Íþró's heart. He didn't dare act on it just yet; historically, rushing headfirst into anything tended to work out in the exact opposite of his favor. He let the comfort of Glanni's honesty surround him, allowing himself to finally focus on something other than his crisis of conscience. His attention fell to the scars on Glanni's arms and shoulders, and he lowered his hands and gently brushed his fingers over the thin white lines. "These are... from the forest, aren't they?"

Glanni nodded halfheartedly and held up his hands, showing Íþró the larger, older white blotches on his palms. "Just a few more iron scars, nothing new," he said quietly, before his mouth twisted into a frown. "It's not so bad. Nowhere near as bad as Ana." He glanced up at Íþró, brow furrowing. "Looks like you didn't get off scot-free, either."

Íþró stared at Glanni in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You haven't bothered looking at your reflection lately, have you?" Glanni said. He slowly reached up and carding his fingers through Íþró's long, roughly-trimmed bangs. Íþró's eyes found their way to Glanni's hair, and finally, something clicked in the back of his mind - the scars, the unfamiliar freckles, and now-

He'd thought it was a trick of the light earlier, but now he saw clearly the streaks of blonde cutting through Glanni's otherwise raven-black hair.

"For the record," Glanni said, "though you could theoretically look... _decent_ with black hair, half-and-half does _not_ suit you."

Íþró couldn't help it. A weak laugh bubbled in his throat, and for a moment Glanni seemed to smile along with him, but there was a pained twist to the corner of his mouth. His hand trailed down Íþró's cheek and neck, slowly settling on his left pectoral, a couple inches below the clavicle. Íþró shivered, his skin itching under Glanni's fingertips.

"This is..." Glanni breathed, seemingly at a loss for words.  
Íþró glanced down at the subtly blooming rash on his shoulder. "It's been there since I woke up," he said. "It's-"

"All that's left of your crystal," Glanni finished hollowly, realization brightening in his eyes. His fingertips grazed the building scar tissue that encircled a scattering of tiny red shards. They glittered like pulverized garnets, their combined aura only barely strong enough for Íþró to sense if he concentrated directly on them.

He should've felt his crystal's absence more deeply, the way he had when he awoke, but in recent days a warmth had paved over the empty space. Sometimes, if he thought too strongly about the way his crystal used to feel, that numb feeling came crawling back, so he resolved to ignore it as best he could. Cupping his hand over Glanni's and pulling it away from the shards, he said, "It's my price to pay. Please don't let it bother you, I try not to let it bother me."

Glanni scowled. "It _should_ bother you," he muttered, drumming his fingers against Íþró's sternum. "But if it's one less things to worry about, that's fine by me." His eyes fell past Íþró's shoulder, zeroing in on the wall. "Got enough to worry about with them."

Íþró stroked his thumb along the back of Glanni's hand. "Wait with me," he suggested gently. "Out there, not in here. _Talk_ to them when they come back." He pursed his lips. "You can't stay in here forever."

"Watch me."

" _Glanni_ ," Íþró pleaded.

His eye twitched. "...I don't know." His fingers curled into Íþró's chest. "Just - let me think. And - and stay." The palpable desperation in his voice seized Íþró by the throat. "Stay with me. _Please_."

This time, there wasn't so much as a moment of hesitation.

Íþró smiled softly and intertwined his fingers with Glanni's. "I'll stay, Glanni. I'll stay."

 

* * *

 

Sportacus inhaled the crisp air deeply, craning his neck back and basking in the sunlight. The snow piled up to his knees, light and fluffy above a layer of ice and frost. It muffled Lazytown with a silence that, for once, was both pleasant and comforting - it reminded Sportacus of his childhood home in the north, the mountain peaks dusted with snow eleven months of the year.

"How can you possibly be comfortable out here?" Robbie's incredulous voice came from behind him. "In a _sweater??"_

Sportacus's smile widened. He shuffled around in the snow, finding Robbie hovering above it, his feet just barely making contact with the top layer. A faint cloud of snowflakes surrounded him, swirling with every beat of his wings. His face was flushed red, half concealed by his borrowed scarf. Sportacus gave him a look and pointed out, "You were the one who said we should get some fresh air."

"Yeah," Robbie retorted, broadly gesturing at his attire. "But I figured maybe by now you might understand the concept of _weather-appropriate_ clothing. Apparently you're still a lost cause." He sniffed, rubbing his reddening nose. "Hopefully the kids don't catch you out here being a bad influence again."

A small chorus of shouts made Sportacus's ears perk up. He gestured over his shoulder in their general direction. "Kids like those?"

Robbie threw his arms up in defeat. The energetic screaming intensified. A gaggle of children stumbled around the side of the grounded airship, using each other as climbing holds as they carved a large, uneven path through the snowdrifts directly towards Robbie and Sportacus. Robbie wilted at the sight of them, grumbling under his breath as Sportacus turned eagerly to greet them. He didn't so much as get a word out before three of the five kids collided with him with such force they managed to push him off his feet and into the snow.

"Sportacus I would've come to see you sooner," Ziggy babbled, "but the blizzard was so bad Mom didn't let me out of the house and she said the Mayor told her Loftskip said that you guys were hurt helping somebody with a fire and I think that meant you were doing magic stuff but didn't want to tell anyone-"

"Did you fight the monster??" Trixie demanded. "You had a big fight in the woods, didn't you! Did you win?"

Stephanie, to her credit, got up off Sportacus quickly, allowing him to breathe slightly easier with only two children compressing his ribs. "I'm so glad you're okay, Sportacus," she said with an enormous grin. "And you too, Robbie!"

Sportacus wheezed and patted Ziggy and Trixie on the tops of their heads. "Yes, it's good to see you, but I'd like to get up now. The ice isn't very comfortable and this snow isn't going to shovel itself."

Trixie shoved herself off his stomach first, tugging Ziggy up with her. Sportacus dusted himself off, rolling forward and springing to his feet just as Pixel and Stingy stumbled into the small area Sportacus had managed to clear before the children arrived. Stingy shivered underneath even more layers of outerwear than Robbie was currently wearing, his voice muffled as he said, "You took care of the bad stuff, right? Nothing's going to attack the town again?"

"Oh, absolutely," Robbie said, tone only moderately less sarcastic than it could've been. "We are, after all, _professional_ monster hunters."

Stephanie's brow furrowed, and the smile dipped from her face. She wrung her hands anxiously and gave Sportacus a wide-eyed look. "What... what _happened_ to the people in the monster? Your cousin and the other guy? Did you save them like Robbie's mom, or did you - did you have to-"

Sportacus interrupted before she could get any further, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Yes, we saved them, Stephanie. They're resting in the ship right now, but they'll be okay."

The kids let out a collective sigh of relief, and in the process of assuaging their worries, Sportacus also felt a notable tension fade from his shoulders - a tension he hadn't quite realized had been sitting so prominently in the back of his mind, darkening his thoughts like a stormy sky. The snowfall seemed to lift that storm, and with the town secure, his family safe, the kids bright and eager as if the monster had never existed-

The danger was long gone, but for the first time, Sportacus finally felt like life was getting back to normal again.

 

* * *

 

"Ana?"

A frigid breeze caressed her cheek, but she barely noticed. Her attention fell inward, to a soft warmth in her core, and a thudding only discernible if she laid her hand upon her chest. The noise of clinking metal and soft thumps of icicles against snow as they fell from the sides of the airship crossed into her awareness occasionally, along with muffled voices that might've been children.

" _Ana."_

Loftskip's dark silhouette crossed abruptly into her line of sight. Ana quickly blinked the fog away, drawing in a shallow breath. Loftskip gave her a strange look, her head tilted just so and her eyes bright behind her mask. "Are you alright? You seemed... absent."

Ana rubbed her aching temple, pulling her coat tighter around her chest. "I... we were so close in the ship, I didn't realize it, but..." Her fingers curled into the fabric. "I can still feel them."

A noise like a sharp inhale left Loftskip's mask. "Even now??"

"Yes," Ana whispered. "Like two heartbeats underneath my own." She struggled to find the words, a shortness of breath making her chest ache and her voice fumble. "It's... distracting, but not... uncomfortable." She met Loftskip's gaze and held it firmly, swallowing past the soreness in her throat. "I know I shouldn't welcome it, but I don't... feel inclined to be rid of it, either."

Loftskip stood stiff, her hand twitching at her side with notable uncertainty. She remained quiet for a minute, her mood inscrutable. Eventually, she raised her voice barely louder than a whisper and asked, "Ana, now that this is over... are you planning on staying here, in Lazytown?"

The forwardness of the question took Ana by surprise. She forced herself to pause and organize her thoughts, rather than giving the first response on her mind. In the end, her first and last answer were the same. "Yes." She looked up at the airship, then to the buildings surrounding the town square. "I've given too much of myself to this place to leave it behind. And... things have changed. For the better, I think. So no. I don't want to leave." Drawing in a deep breath, she steeled her voice and said, "I nearly lost my family once. If I can at all help it, I'll never let that happen again."

Loftskip's shoulders sagged with a sigh. "...I'm glad to hear that, Ana." She glanced over her shoulder, scratching the underside of her mask. "Although, we may need to reconsider housing at some point. The ship is... ill-equipped to support six people for an extended period of time."

A long-submerged memory resurfaced in Ana's mind, and the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. "It... occurs to me that I may still own a house in Lazytown. I don't know what Robbie did with it after we... disappeared, but that's at least one possibility." She raised an eyebrow at Loftskip. "I'm sure it could fit six."

"Mm. Six and the occasional guest." Loftskip craned her head up and peered over Ana's shoulder. Ana turned and for the first time noticed the presence of the town's children, currently in the midst of wrestling in the snow and rolling it into a huge mound about twenty feet away from where Sportacus and Robbie were clearing a path from the ship. Her son slid down a freshly carved snowbank, all but disappearing around a pile of snow as he reached out, grasped the elf's scarf, and tugged him close.

A disquieting feeling nagged at the back of Ana's neck at the sight of them, and she remembered something she'd meant to do far sooner than now, but had forgotten in the midst of all the chaos.

"...Loftskip, excuse me."

Ana turned and headed towards Robbie and Sportacus before Loftskip had a chance to stop her. 

 

* * *

 

 

"Pests," Robbie mumbled, fighting off a treacherous smile as the kids scrambled around in the snow like a pack of hyperactive weasels.

Sportacus flung a shovelful of snow over his shoulder and dropped the shovel head down onto the ice with a _clack_. In an remarkably short span of time, he'd managed to clear a decent trench between the airship door and the street. In the distance, Robbie heard the mechanical rumbling of what might've been Lazytown's single plow truck, but Sportacus didn't seem to want to bother waiting for someone else to clear the snow away.

"Now I _definitely_ know you don't mean that," Sportacus said, propping the shovel upright and leaning on the handle.

Robbie rolled his eyes and tucked his wings to his back, dropping down onto the icy cobblestones. "It's mind-numbing how you can tolerate them interrupting _everything_ ," he retorted, grabbing the loose ends of the scarf that was on the verge of slipping off of Sportacus's neck. He slowly wrapped the fabric over his hands, advancing up to Sportacus until their noses were almost touching. "One of these days you're just going to have to tell them to go away."

The tips of Sportacus's ears blushed a vivid pink. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak, but his eyes darted past Robbie's head, and his voice came out a low, halting squeak instead. Robbie turned and looked back, and his heart skipped an alarmed beat at the sight of his mother approaching through the snow. Robbie pulled away from Sportacus without thinking, doing his best to hide behind his scarf and coat collar and pretend that nothing had been happening, despite the sinking knowledge that his mother _must_ have seen him and Sportacus so close together.

Ana stumbled into the cleared path, dusting snow off her legs. "Robbie," she called, "could I speak with you a moment?"

The sinking feeling worsened to the tipping point of outright panic. Swallowing nervously, Robbie shuffled down the path to Ana, keenly aware of the way Sportacus froze up behind him. Heart pounding in his ears, he halted arm's length from Ana and answered quietly, "Yeah, Mom?"

He didn't expect the look of utmost sympathy she gave him. On any other person, he might've interpreted her expression as mild concern, but the tightening of her lips and the soft furrow to her brow made Robbie flash back to a dozen different memories, all of them tainted with some measure of pain or grief. The expression startled the worry right out of him and sent him straight to confusion, but before he could say anything else, she stepped forward and held up a hand. "Robbie, there's two things I need you to know. The first is that I'm not an idiot."

The dread returned, filling Robbie's chest so profoundly he forgot to breathe for a few seconds.

"Second," Ana continued, taking one of Robbie's hands and clasped it between her own, "even if I _was_ an idiot, it would still be clear how much that elf loves you."

Robbie's heart just about stopped.

Ana averted her gaze for a moment, chewing her bottom lip. "I... understand why you didn't want me to know. I don't blame you for it." She gave Robbie's hand a gently squeeze, her skin freezing to the touch. "But I need  _you_ to understand that there's no reason to hide it around me. So stop flinching away from him every time I happen to accidentally glance at the two of you." A smile crossed her face, twisted at the corners, like their was some kind of pain behind it that had roots Robbie wasn't allowed to see. "You've earned that much."

Robbie's mouth hung open uselessly. "I - uh-"

Ana patted the top of his hand. "Just let yourself be happy, Robbie." Her eyes flicked past his shoulder. "Whether it's with him or anyone else."

After that, she turned away to make her leave. Before her hand slipped out of his grasp, Robbie tightened his grip. "Mom, wait."

She hesitated. "Yes, Robbie?"

His throat felt raw, and his cheeks burned, but if he started crying now he'd be picking shards of ice out of the corners of his eyes in a few minutes, so he sucked in a breath and forced his voice to steady. "Thank you," he whispered. "I didn't - I wasn't sure how to tell you."

Ana exhaled a quiet laugh. "It's not as if I made it easy." She finally pulling her hand away, making a shooing motion towards Robbie. "That's all that needed to be said. Now go on, stop worrying about what I might be thinking. You've got more important things to consider."

Robbie stared, aghast, as she turned and left, heading back towards the airship. He couldn't tell if the fluttering in his chest was disbelief or elation, or some mixture of the two - it made his fingertips tingle, filling him with an entirely different strain of nervous energy. Clamping his mouth shut, he ran his hands through his hair, allowing himself only one minute longer to process his mother's words before he about-faced to find Sportacus still leaning on the shovel, giving him a look of the utmost concern.

The fluttering in his chest grew to a feverish rush, and Robbie sprinted down the path towards his elf.

Sportacus straightened up. "Robbie, what did she-"

He didn't give him time to finish that sentence.

Robbie slid to a halt, feet barely catching on the snow-dusted ice, and clasped his hands to either side of Sportacus's face. Their breath made clouds in the freezing air, and they were so close Robbie could see every flake of snow in Sportacus's hair, every drop of condensation on his cheeks, every shard of cobalt in his sky-blue eyes. The shovel clattered to the ground as Sportacus sucked in a quiet gasp, and without wasting another second, Robbie crashed their lips together in a blissful, breathless kiss.

 

* * *

 

The constant ticking and humming of the ship's engine, like the hands of an enormous clock beneath the floor, perfectly offset the beating of Glanni's heart to an unsettling degree. His attention darted back and forth between the two sources of noise like a pendulum, deafening him to the rest of the world. Sometimes he picked up on the distant sound of vehicles, voices, the scraping of ice - but otherwise there was only nervous stillness, and that damn pulsing.

Sometimes it sounded too similar to the guttural, yawning moan of energy beneath the earth, in between tree roots-

At least he had the good sense to shake himself out of his own head when _those_ thoughts crept inside.

"Glanni, we don't... we don't have to wait out here, if you don't want to," Íþró said from the table, where he sat watching Glanni pace.

He shook his head. "No, no, you were right, if I don't - if I just stay in there, I probably won't ever come back out." Wringing his hands, he exhaled sharply and forced his arms down to his sides. Puffs of shadow gusted out between his fingers, and the skin of his back crawled beneath the combined weight of his paper-thin wings and the purple bathrobe he'd been gifted from Robbie.

"Where the hell are they?" he muttered. "Feels like they've been gone for hours."

Íþró leaned heavily backwards in a chair, elbow resting on the table and head propped up on the back of his hand. He offered little more than a mild shrug in response, and Glanni rolled his eyes, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. His focus drifted back to the door and the town beyond it - and his pacing slowed to a frozen halt as he realized just how eerily quiet it'd gotten outside.

His eyes darted frantically to Íþró. His long ears pricked up, perfectly timed with the squeaking hiss of the door as it opened.

Glanni's breath hitched. His heartbeat rang in his ears as Ana stepped inside first, not noticing him. The elf golem - Loftskip, her name was Loftskip, she had a name and she'd had another form, a form he'd _broken_ \- followed, with neither Robbie nor Sportacus to be seen immediately. For the moment, Glanni only had eyes for Ana as she pulled her hat from her head, and only when she smoothed her hair back from her face did she finally see him.

She said nothing, at first. In fact, Glanni might have even assumed she somehow didn't see him at all, were it not for the way her lips pressed thinly together. Her eyes narrowed subtly, and she took a few deliberate steps forward, shuffling her arms out of her coat sleeves and locking her gaze with Glanni's. The blood ran cold in his veins under the pressure of her stare; her emotions as inscrutable as a murky lake, with something horrific possibly lurking just beneath the surface.

Whatever plan he'd had in mind before she returned flew right out the window. He couldn't think of any words to say, let alone find the will to speak them aloud. Ana stopped directly in front of him, folding her arms over her chest to match Glanni's nervous posture, only she radiated a calm aura of control.

She gave Íþró a side-eyed glance. "Do I have you to thank for this?"

Íþró visibly flinched as her attention fell upon him. "...somewhat."

Ana nodded pensively. "Then you have my gratitude," she intoned, her gaze returning to Glanni. She slowly extended a hand, running it along Glanni's arm and finding his fingers where they clenched the bathrobe sleeve so hard his knuckles had turned white. He allowed her to pull his hand into hers, fighting off a shiver as she whispered, "Are you ready to let yourself come home to us?"

The roof of his mouth went pasty and parched, his words stumbling on his tongue. "Yes," he breathed, "if you - if you're sure you're okay with me staying."

"I'm sure. There's no penance that can be paid worse than what we've already suffered," Ana said quietly, her grip tightening on Glanni's hand until he couldn't suppress a grimace of pain. After a second, she released her hand just enough to relieve the ache, but her her tone stayed hard and cold as steel. "But Glanni... do _not_ let this happen again. Don't run, don't _lie_ to us, don't pick fights that you _cannot_ win. I will do what I must to ensure I never make the same mistakes that put us in this position." She drew in a deep breath. "I forgive the past - all of it. Just promise me you'll do your part to not jeopardize our future."

Hands trembling, Glanni gripped Ana like a lifeline, her words ringing in his ears. Chest tight and lungs momentarily bereft of oxygen, he croaked, "I promise. I promise, Ana, I won't - I won't fuck up like this again."

A soft smile crossed her lips. She dropped his hand, leaving him floundering like a fish out of water for a half-second before she grabbed him by the shoulder and tugged him to her chest. The weight of her arms around him muffled his stutter of surprise, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his nose into her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," he stammered. "I'm so sorry - I never should've dragged you and Robbie into this-"

" _Shh_ ," Ana murmured, running her hands through the hair on the back of his head. "We all made our choices. Don't burden yourself with the past."

Glanni squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, trembling into her embrace and gripping her sweater for dear life. He felt a tremor in Ana's hands, a tension in her shoulders like nothing he'd ever felt from her before; a mix of relief and exhaustion she'd never allowed herself to display in the past. It was still the same Ana, though, despite the changes he knew she'd undergone alongside them. Still the same warmth, same comforting voice, same reliable, comforting demeanor.

Still his Ana - his savior, sister, closest friend.

He hugged her tighter, basking in her warmth, and he was so caught up in listening to her words and breath and heartbeat that he didn't hear the door open a second time. He did, however, hear the soft gasp from across the room, and he cracked an eye open just wide enough to take in the sight of Robbie, shoulders and head covered in snow, halfway through untangling a scarf from his neck.

As soon as their eyes met, Robbie's wings sprang up on either side of his shoulders in excitement.

Before Glanni could even attempt to speak, Robbie sprinted across the ship and slammed into Ana and Glanni with his arms spread wide. Ana let out a grunt of surprise as her son collided with her shoulder, but she quickly slung an arm around his shoulder and pulled them all into a tight circle. Robbie's wings wrapped around them, and he pressed his forehead against Glanni's, leveling him with a serious look. "I'm not letting go until you promise not to disappear again."

Glanni felt like his ribs were constricting around his lungs. "Never," he whispered. "Never again, I promise." Extricating his arm from Ana's waist, he started to put his hand up to

Robbie's cheek, but hesitated halfway. Seconds seemed to drag on for minutes, even hours, as he instead laid a trembling hand on Robbie's chest. He struggled to keep his voice from cracking, his cheeks heating with tears he could barely keep at bay. "I'm so sorry, Robbie. I was so stupid, I took - I took _everything_ from you-"

Robbie breathed slowly, lips pressed into thin lines and jaw visibly clenched. Glanni half expected him to pull away, but he only tugged Glanni closer, his arm keeping its place around Glanni's shoulders. "I know," he murmured, gently kissing Glanni's temple. "But don't beat yourself up over it. I've got it all back - and then some," he added, glancing over his shoulder. Glanni followed his gaze to the elves waiting in awkward silence at the table, and he noticed a soft smile and a hint of a blush on the youngest one's face.

Glanni blinked, slipping into Fae speech. _"Oh, you little - good job."_

A confused look crossed Robbie's face. _"What??"_

The dull smack of Ana's hand encountering her face as she sighed exasperatedly echoed around the room. Glanni felt a smile tugging at his lips, the first genuine smile in a long time. It didn't feel right on his face, but he wasn't about to stop himself. Leaning back from Robbie, he raised an eyebrow at the elves, bumping his fist into Robbie's arm. _"I'm partial to the older model, but the cousin's still a pretty good catch."_

Robbie's cheeks flushed beet red. He glanced at his mother and muttered, _"_ Guess he's not that far gone after all."

"Oh, perfect," Ana said, patting Glanni's back and digging her fingers into his shoulder blade as she gave him a warning look. "Try not to tease him so much," she said, changing back to the common tongue and raising her voice. "He's only just gotten used to the idea of me knowing."

In the corner of his eye, Glanni saw the younger elf groan and slump down to the table, hiding his head behind his arms. Robbie's wings drooped, and he narrowed his eyes at both Glanni and Ana, detaching himself from their group hug. "Yeah, I'm still mad at you for all the shit you left me dealing with when you disappeared, so you're banned from all teasing for a - for a month. That's your punishment."

Glanni's throat tightened, but he managed to keep his smile up as he nodded and drew his fingers over his lips. "No teasing, got it."

Robbie rolled his eyes and retreated to the table, his wings flattening to his back as he dropped into the chair next to Sportacus. Glanni kept an arm around Ana's waist, refusing to move until she wanted him to. He rested a head on her shoulder, and she rubbed a hand through his hair, her eyes slowly leaving her son and falling upon the elf sitting on the opposite side of the table.

Glanni felt her tense beneath his arm. One of the two ghostly heartbeats in his chest fluttered, and Íþró visibly shuffled his feet, his fingers wringing each other to the point of his knuckles going white. As a heavy silence descended upon the room, Íþró stood up from the table, taking a cautious step towards Ana and Glanni and bowing his head. Palpable shame radiated off his posture as he said with a cracking voice, "Ana... I'm so sorry for what I put your family through. I won't ask for your forgiveness. I don't deserve it for what I did to you, to - to your _wings_ , to your family."

No one in the ship moved. Renewed tension crowded the room, and Glanni's breath hitched as his pulse raced to mirror the frantic unease in Íþró's chest, and the stanch cold reverberating through Ana. His eyes darted between the two of them, and he couldn't bring himself to move or speak as Ana extricated herself from his grip in a single fluid movement.

Expression stiff as stone, she crossed the room to Íþró, and the elf flinched as she halted in front of him. She raised a hand slowly, fingers twitching and tucked to her palm, and with noticeable effort she relaxed her fingers and laid her hand over Íþró's chest, grazing the shards of crystal embedded in his flesh. Íþró let out a shivering gasp as her fingers made contact with his skin, his eyes nervously glancing up to her face.

Glanni couldn't see her expression, but he could hear it softening in her tone when she spoke. "We've each taken our pound of flesh," she said quietly. "Let that be where this grudge ends between us, Íþróttaálfurinn. Remember what we _all_ have done, and move forward knowing that I no longer hold ill will towards you because of it." Her head shifted, turning her gaze towards the table. "Stay with your family. Help us rebuild this town. Make _that_ your reparation... and I will do my best to make my amends to you, in turn."

Íþró lifted his head, wiped away tears beading at the edges of his eyes, and laughed shakily. " _Your_ amends?? You were defending yourself, there's no - you don't have to apologize for that, especially not to me."

Ana averted her gaze. "...we could've handled it better." She forcibly set her shoulders back, drawing in a long sigh. "But there's no changing it. I understand what drove you to us in the first place, I understand why we couldn't resolve it then. But let it be resolved _now_." She paused, pulling her hand away from Íþró's chest. "Regardless of whether or not you think you deserve it, you have my forgiveness. _Please_ do not refuse it."

Glanni's heartbeat fluttered again - once, twice.

Íþró exhaled and nodded. "...thank you, Ana."

Sportacus let out a long sigh and slumped down face-first onto the table. Robbie patted his back, glancing over at Glanni with wide eyes and lips pressed together as he forced himself to keep his breathing steady. Even the golem's body language seemed to change, relaxing and releasing the tension that'd built up in the room around Ana and Íþró through the course of their brief conversation.

The stress washed from Glanni's shoulders, and with it, the remaining strength in his knees. His legs gave out, crumpling underneath him, and as he collapsed he curled his knees up to his chest, hands trembling and vision blurry with tears as he stared up at the ship and its contents. He gazed up at his family, and the strangers who could become friends if he was willing to give a damn for once and let them into his life.

Ana, Robbie, Íþró - Sportacus, Loftskip-

It hadn't been so hard to come back after all.

They were _here_ , and so was he.

And that was enough.

 

* * *

 

_One Month Later_

 

Sportacus rapped his knuckles against the bedroom door. "Robbie? You awake?" 

No answer came, even after a second gently knock. Through the crack between the door and the frame, Sportacus could only make out indistinct shadows, and a faint sliver of light from behind the crooked window blinds. Easing the door open with a creak, Sportacus stepped inside and swept his gaze across the room, quickly taking its scattered contents into account.

The bed was more or less in the same state he'd last seen it, covered with tools and piles of clothes. A laundry basket had apparently joined the mess at some point last night, full of costume pieces and feather boas and cheap theater props - a few of which Sportacus recognized from Robbie's past schemes. Two of the dresser drawers lay on the floor beneath the window, half-filled with miscellaneous summer clothes, and in the middle of the room, a large cocoon of blankets sat tucked into an orange-furred chair.

Sportacus grinned and approached the chair quietly, kneeling down and laying a hand on the cocoon's lap, rubbing a knee gently. The figure under the blankets squirmed, pushing himself further backwards in the chair and mumbling, "Go away. Lemme sleep."

"Robbie, come on, it's almost time for the bonfire," Sportacus urged, biting down a laugh.

The blankets shuffled, and a single eye peeked out from behind the folds. "Bonfire, schmonfire. I was up 'til four in the morning dismantling my disguise tubes." Robbie retreated deeper into the chair. "I'm sure it'll be no great loss if I sleep right through it."

"It's just for a few hours," Sportacus said, pouting and resting his arms on Robbie's knees. "Please? For me?"

Robbie groaned. The blankets shuffled as he pulled his arm out and tugged them away from his face, exposing a set of dark circles under his eyes and a mess of hair sticking out at odd, frizzy angles. He narrowed his eyes at Sportacus, pursing his lips. They stared at each other for a moment, Sportacus doing his best to look like a pleading puppy and Robbie silently resisting until his shoulders slumped. "Okay, _fine_."

Sportacus beamed. "Great!" Hopping up to his feet, he dug through the blankets and found Robbie's other arm, hauling him up out of the chair. The blankets slipped down and tangled around Robbie's legs, and he made a show of rolling his eyes as Sportacus said, "Ana and Glanni headed over about a half-hour ago. I think Loftskip's still helping Íþró fix his air balloon, but she said they'd meet us there as soon as they could."

Robbie nodded and yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He turned and dug through the clothes on the bed, retrieving a coat and a pair of snow boots. Sportacus patiently waited in the hallway outside the door, linking his and Robbie's arms together when he finally exited the room. The house creaked around them, pieces of old wallpaper still clinging to some parts of the walls, trays of paint still sitting out on the stairs as Sportacus and Robbie headed down into the living room. The window still needed a few repairs, and cardboard boxes sat scattered around the couches, but otherwise the house had been returned to a livable state, furnished and cleaned and welcoming. 

As they passed the kitchen, Robbie quickly ducked around the island counter and grabbed a plastic-wrapped plate of cookies. Sportacus held the front door open, commenting wryly, "You know, they're already bringing chocolate and marshmallows, and Bessie said she's making brownies. Now, I  _could_ be wrong, but this all  _might_ be a little too much sugar for the kids."

"Who said anything about the kids?" Robbie smirked, giving Sportacus a peck on the cheek as he stepped outside. "These are all for me." 

Sportacus rolled his eyes and pulled out a key hanging on a cord around his neck, locking the house behind him as Robbie set out in the direction of the town square. A shadow hung over the Glaepur house, and just off to the side of the building the airship ladder swayed in the breeze. Overhead, the ship hovered with a dull hum, stirring up a gentle cyclone as if both the ship and the house were sitting inside a recently shaken snow globe. 

The snowfall continued as Sportacus and Robbie headed towards the town square. A handful of the houses along the way still bore the marks from monster, their roofs in need of new shingles and their walls only partially repaired, covered with billowing tarps over the spaces where whole chunks of wood had been torn loose. A dusting of snow covered the street, the crunching of the powder underfoot the only sound permeating the silence. The clouds above the horizon glowed as the first rays of a sunset bathed Lazytown in their warm pink and orange hues. 

Robbie's wings flicked up, refracting the light. He exhaled slowly, breath visibly condensing in the cold air. He slung an arm around Sportacus's shoulder, pressing his cheek to the side of his head. "Not too late to turn back, you know," he mentioned. "We could just sit on the roof until the sun goes down. No need to bother with bonfires and small children and their overly conversational parents."

"What, and leave them alone with Glanni and Íþró?" Sportacus retorted, clasping Robbie's hand and tugging him down the center of the street. "I'd rather not add a few more buildings to our repair list." His ears perked up at a growing sound in the distance - the chatter of voices and the thudding of heavy objects against snowy cobblestones. "What if I promise to stay up late with you on the roof tonight? _Then_ would you let yourself enjoy the bonfire?" 

Robbie let out an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, in  _that_ case-" He smirked. "I'm going to hold you to that promise."

Sportacus smiled. "I hope you do."

 

* * *

 

Ana stooped over a folding table, carefully adjusting a flannel cloth as two of the townsmen assembled a cabana around her with the assistance of their orange-haired son. The rest of the children were either chasing each other or trying to steal brownies from behind Bessie's back, and altogether avoiding the pile of pallets and scrap wood from the damaged houses sitting in the middle of the town square. 

"Mr. Glaepur," the Mayor called, setting out a few folding chairs, "could you please put the rest of those logs on the pile?"

Ana glanced up to see Glanni give a flourish of his wrist from the chair he was lounging in, tossing a few quartered logs from into the mix at a distance. Most of the townsfolk didn't notice, and the ones that did made no comment about it, but Ana pursed her lips and strode over to him with a cross look. "Glanni," she murmured, laying a hand on his shoulder, "a little tact, if you wouldn't mind?" 

Glanni grinned up at her, flicking up his sunglasses. "Oh, come on, after all the stuff Robbie told us he got away with? This is _nothing_." He patted Ana's hand, pulling out a half-wrapped chocolate bar from the box sitting on his lap and waving it in front of her face. "Relax. Have some chocolate."

"Those are for  _later,"_ Ana admonished, swiping the box before Glanni could stop her. He started to get up from the chair, reaching for the chocolate bars, but Ana quickly grabbed his hood and flung it over the top of his head. Glanni sputtered as the snow that'd slowly piled up inside his fur-lined hood rained down on his face and shoulders, and Ana made a hasty retreat back to the cabanas. 

She hadn't made it much farther than a few steps before she was distracted by movement in the corner of her eye. A soft smile split her face as she recognized the familiar shape of a masked porcelain-and-leather golem jogging into the square, with two elves and a half-fairy hot on her heels. Robbie waved excitedly, keeping his distance from Sportacus and Íþró as they nudged each other in the shoulder and broke into a sprint, racing up on either side of Ana while shouting at in Elvish. 

Ana patiently waited for Loftskip and her son to approach in a more respectfully-paced manner. Robbie's cheeks were flushed red from the cold, and he wrapped both wings and arms around Ana in a tight hug. She returned the gesture, rubbing Robbie's shoulder. "I'm glad you decided to come. I know you were busy last night."

"Eh, the elf made a deal with me," he said, stretching and cracking his neck. "Besides, Robbie Rotten does _not_ pass up s'mores." 

"Good, then maybe you can keep these away from Glanni," Ana said, shoving the box of chocolate bars into his hands. "Before there's none left for anyone else." 

Robbie gave her a mock salute, heading towards the cabanas. Ana sighed in relief and watched him leave as an arm came down around her shoulders. She reached up for Loftskip's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and saying under her breath, "You certainly took your time showing up, too."

Loftskip pressed her mask into Ana's hair, a purr from her crystal rippling through Ana's chest. "You missed me, I'm sure." 

Ana leaned into Loftskip's torso. "Who's spreading such slander? I will have stern words with them." 

Loftskip chuckled, a hitch in her voice implying she was about to say something, but she was interrupted by a shout. Ana looked up just in time to see Sportacus and Íþró come to a breathless halt on the opposite side of the campfire, but the shouting came from off to her side as Glanni leaped up from his chair and yelled, " _Elf!"_ at the top of his lungs and charged across the square, practically jumping right into Íþró's arms. The elf staggered backwards, barely catching the man in time, swinging him in a circle as Glanni grabbed both sides of his head and mashed their lips together.

"Glanni," Ana called loudly, "there are children present!" 

To his credit, Íþró caught on and dropped Glanni to his feet, tearing himself away with a wide grin. Glanni's head lolled back over his shoulder dramatically, his face half obscured by the fur of his food as he shouted, "You're no fun, Ana! No fun!!"

Mercifully, Mayor Meanswell chose this time to interrupt. The pudgy man took a quick look around the square, proclaiming, "Ah, I see everyone is here - I think we should get the bonfire going, shouldn't we?"

A resounding set of enthusiastic shrieks arose, primarily from the children and supported by their parents with a bit more volume restraint. Meanswell dutifully set the tinder ablaze, nervously stepping back as the dry leaves and splintered wood rapidly caught on fire. The children hollered and clapped as the flames steadily spread throughout the pile, warmth and light filling the square over the next several minutes. The orange and yellow flames flickered and snapped, blending with the vivid sunset colors bleeding down through the clouds. 

Eventually, Ana found her way to one of the snow-dusted benches, content to sit and observe the festivities. She gave up on trying to tell Glanni to contain his impulsive magic after about a half an hour or so; thankfully, no one minded the occasional display of shadow monsters coiling around the bonfire, or the tiny whirlwinds of snow chasing the children around the drifts. A few townsfolk - namely Bessie or Pixel's fathers - managed to catch her in small talk here and there, but for the most part Ana sat in comfortable silence, idly eavesdropping on nearby conversation and watching the evening unfold. 

The high note of the night occurred an hour after sunset, when the bonfire was roaring and Robbie decided to push Sportacus headfirst into a snowdrift. The next thing Ana knew, he'd lobbed a fistful of snow directly at Robbie's face, and within seconds it had escalated to a snowball siege war, pitting Sportacus, Loftskip, and the children against Robbie, Glanni, and Íþró. 

The children were a surprisingly capable match for two magic-wielders and an elf. They managed to land more snowballs against their opponents than either Sportacus or Loftskip; Ana kept careful track of it. At some point, exhaustion won the children over, and the battle ended in a truce, though Glanni immediately claimed that the other team had surrendered. 

As the snowball fight ended, Loftskip trudged over to Ana's bench, her fabric form damp from the snow. She sat down heavily beside Ana, wringing out her legs and asking, "Did you see that hit Trixie got on Glanni? I think she bruised him. I've never seen a man so happy to get hit with a snowball."

Ana snorted. "She's a spitfire, I'll give her that."

"Mm." Loftskip wrapped her arm around Ana's shoulder. "Reminds me a bit of someone I know." 

Her lips cracked apart with a quietly amused grin, and she settled into the nook of Loftskip's shoulder, crossing her arms over her chest. As the evening crossed into night, and the pale silver full moon ascended, so did the bonfire's flames, chasing their own smoke up into the sky. The townsfolk faded to a blur around Ana, their silhouettes dull against the bonfire's light. 

Ana stared, lost in thought, at the swirling flames as they danced. Lashes of bloody orange coiled like roots in the coals, while tendrils of bright yellow nipped at passing snowflakes and shivered in the wind. Curls of blue and white bristled at the heart of the bonfire, holding Ana's attention for what felt like hours on end. Every so often, she thought she saw a few pure golden flames, but they never lasted long enough for her to tell if they were real - or if they were just figments of her own imagination.

The errant snaps of the logs and pallets as they crumbled to cinders sent a chill down Ana's spine, deeper than anything the winter cold could conjure.

The bonfire climbed so high, and yet-

It burnt itself out, as all fires did in the end. And it was _calm_  - calm like no forest fire ever was, controlled like no Weaver's magic could ever _hope_ to be. 

The bonfire burned until it couldn't burn anymore.

Ana was content to watch it flicker and fade away. 

 

* * *

 

By the time the bonfire had burnt itself down to little more than a pile of blackened wood and smoldering red flames, all of the kids had fallen asleep on the benches, and a few of the other townsfolk had already dwindled out of the town square, finding their way back to their respective houses. Robbie sat languidly in one of the chairs, surprising himself with just how awake he felt while everyone else was succumbing to the pull of sleep. 

Glanni had already passed out, taking up an entire bench and snoring quietly. Íþró sat next to him, talking in muffled Elvish with Loftskip while Ana's eyelids visibly drooped with each passing minute. Sportacus lay in the snow next to Robbie, absentmindedly staring up at the sky and letting the snow blanket him in a fine dusting of white. 

One by one, the parents took their children home, and the rest of the townsfolk cleared out before long. Robbie sighed and heaved himself out of the chair, crossing over to his mother and gently nudging her shoulder. "Hey, Mom, I think it's time to call it a night." 

Ana shrugged sleepily, standing and stretching her arms above her head. "Agreed... somebody ought to put out that fire, though..."

"Sport and I can handle it," Robbie reassured. "You look like you're about to drop." He looked over to Loftskip. "You can drag 'em home by yourself, right? Make sure they don't find any ditches to fall asleep in?"

"Of course," Loftskip said as Íþró shook Glanni awake. He woke with an annoyed groan, sagging heavily against Íþró as he was hauled to his feet. He tugged his hood up around his head, eyes glinting out from inside of it as he used Íþró like a walking stick, and the two of them stumbled in the general direction of home. 

Ana took Robbie's hand, her gloves soft against his bare skin. "Don't be long."

Robbie grinned. "We'll be fine. Don't bother waiting up, we'll probably take the long way home."

"Okay. Goodnight, Robbie."

He gave her a quick peck on the forehead before shooing her and Loftskip away after the other two. He watched them leave into the darkness, their silhouettes barely caught in the glow from the streetlamps, then about-faced towards the bonfire. Sportacus still lay in the snow, swishing his legs and arms in the gathering flakes. Robbie bit back a laugh at his elf's expense, then marched up to him with a determined tilt of the head.

Crouching down over his elf and planting his hands on his knees, Robbie said, "Come on, Sportaflop, up and at 'em. You're not allowed to sleep 'til you've fulfilled your end of the deal."

Sportacus raised a snow-coated eyebrow, then tucked his legs up to his chest and rolled forward onto his feet. As he shook the snow off his shoulders, Robbie made a broad gesture with his arm, and a wave of snow surged over the bonfire, extinguishing the flames with a loud hiss. The town square was plunged into darkness, but Robbie's eyes slowly readjusted, as the moon and the streetlamps shed their light upon Lazytown. 

"So," Sportacus asked, "home again?"

Robbie smirked. "Eventually." 

With a single fluid movement, he ducked around Sportacus and swept his legs out from under him. In the same motion, he flexed his hands, sending a loop of purple energy spiraling around Sportacus's body, slowing his fall and letting Robbie scoop him up into his arms. His wings flared out on either side of his shoulders, and before Sportacus could even fully comprehend what was happening, Robbie took off into the sky. 

Sportacus clamped a hand over his mouth, muffled a shriek of alarm that quickly turned into a breathy, excited laugh. The wind whistled in Robbie's ears, his wings beating the snow around them into a storm as he quickly set down on the nearest rooftop, then took off again. The world seemed to fall away around them, leaving them with nothing but open sky and snowy rooftops where Robbie briefly left his footprints before launching himself and Sportacus into the air again.

Robbie zigzagged across Lazytown, sliding down steep roofs and spinning back into the air, emboldened by the crisp night air and the strength in his wings. Sportacus's laugh shifted in pitch as Robbie flew them towards the house, dipping into a scream when Robbie let them fall and then gasping once they soared off to another roof. 

Finally, the house came into view - but rather than descend, Robbie chose to keep going up, all the way to the top of the airship. He carefully set down on top of the blimp, wobbling as the canvass squished under his feet. Sportacus hopped out of his arms, somersaulting and coming to a halt and staring up at the sky, running his hands through his hair with wide eyes. "Robbie," he said breathlessly, "that was -  _amazing-"_

Robbie grinned giddily, adrenaline still rushing through his veins. Sportacus's scarf dangled haphazardly around his neck, undone and almost falling off, but he barely paid attention to it as he wandered in aimless circles, staring up at the sky. "I haven't - I haven't been up here in so long, not on a night like this. Íþró and I used to sit up on the ship in the mountains and look for shooting stars-" He pointed up to a spot where the cloud cover thinned. "Robbie, look, you can even see the Milky Way!" 

"Is  _that_ what you call it?" Robbie said. "Mom always called it the 'River of Eyes'." He let out a snorting laugh. "She used to tell me that elf ships were hiding up there. Camouflaging themselves in the starlight." Narrowing his eyes, he searched the nearby stars for familiar patterns, finding a handful that he recognized immediately. "She called  _that_ one the Needle."

"Really? We call it the Dipper."

"Those two are the Warp and Weft - that one's the Great Owl-"

"I don't think I know the first two... I'm pretty sure _your_ Great Owl is _our_ Western Maiden..."

Robbie strained to pick out the constellations, obscured as they were by the swirling snow and the clouds. Craning his head back, he walked to his left, only becoming aware of how close he was to the edge of the airship when he took one step too many, and his foot slipped off the curve of the ship. He let out a yelp as he pitched backwards, arms windmilling frantically and wings flailing for lift-

Two hands grabbed his, yanking him back up onto the top of the blimp. Sportacus pulled him all the way into the center, his eyes the size of dinner plates. "Robbie," he gasped, "be  _careful-"_

"Sportaflop," Robbie said, trying not to laugh. "I can  _fly,_ remember?"

Sportacus's shoulders bent inward, and he wrapped his arms around Robbie's waist. The adrenaline slowly ran its course in Robbie's bloodstream, leaving his legs feeling like jelly as Sportacus buried his face into Robbie's coat. "I know," he breathed, "you can fly and you're magic, you stay up too late and you sleep in too long-" He cut himself off sharply, tightening his grip on Robbie's waist. 

Robbie blinked. "Sport...?"

His elf lifted his head, an absurdly sentimental smile on his face. Perching up onto his toes, Sportacus leaned in close and kissed Robbie, startling him with how gentle it was. He could  _feel_ Sportacus's pulse racing, could almost hear the words caught in his throat trembling on the surface of his chapped lips. Robbie's eyes fluttered and closed, and he let himself briefly fall into the kiss, the whistling wind and the cold blocking out all sensation - except for the touch of warmth Sportacus brought everywhere he went.

When Sportacus finally pulled away, his mouth still hovered only inches from Robbie's face, and he whispered, "I love you. I love you, and I'm so,  _so_ glad you couldn't chase me out of town when we first met."

Even though he couldn't see himself, Robbie knew his cheeks blushed a deep red the second those words left Sportacus's mouth. His entire face burned like he'd just stuck his face into a steamy pot of boiling water, and for a moment he forgot just how cold it was outside. Biting his lip, he pressed his forehead against Sportacus's, his hands nervously fidgeting with his elf's straying scarf. "...yeah, I'm glad you stuck around, too." He tugged on Sportacus's scarf, beckoning him to come closer. "Hey, how do you say 'my love' in Elvish?" he asked.

" _Ástin mín?"_  Sportacus supplied. 

Robbie gave a tug on the scarf, and he was so close to Sportacus their bodies almost seemed to become one. "Well,  _ástin mín,"_ he murmured, "here's to you stubbornly sticking around, and me never chasing you away ever again." 

Sportacus laughed as Robbie kissed him. 

When their lips met, it tasted like chocolate and strawberries - felt like a sunburst in the middle of a winter night. 

For a moment, it felt like they were standing on top of the world.

And Robbie never wanted to come down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
> 
> I STAYED UP TIL 4 AM ON THE DOT TO FINISH THIS. WAS IT WORTH IT?? OH BABY IT WAS W O R T H I T
> 
> -
> 
> HoooOOOOOOOOOoooo boy! What a wild ride. Got that 4 AM adrenaline working OVERTIME bby!
> 
> Well, after a year and a half, the story has finally reached its conclusion - but this isn't quite the end of this adventure. Some of you may have heard this already, but I have plans to adapt this fanfic for a new, but similar story; one that I can proudly call my own, and one day publish, too. Because let's be honest, at this point, there's about a 2% similarity to Lazytown. The adaptation will be set in Finland, with new worldbuilding, expanded story, a couple new characters, and new names for existent characters, as well as (obviously) a new title. Currently I am calling the adaptation "The Fugitive Fae". Fitting, no?
> 
> Anyway. Ana, Robbie, Glanni, Ipro, and Loftskip will be returning, maybe in some slightly different forms and under new names (but the same old management, yours truly). Updates as to the adaptation's progress, artwork, and so on will be available on my two tumblr blogs, [Teejay-Kaye](https://teejay-kaye.tumblr.com/) and [Sportatiddy](https://sportatiddy.tumblr.com/). I'm also considering setting up a patreon, and my own website with my dad's help. Either way, the information will be made available, so I hope some of you will stick around to see what comes next :D
> 
> Of course, all my love and thanks to Magnus Scheving and Stefan Karl for giving me the impetus to create this story, and creating such a great show that has led to a great fandom community and experience. Love you guys, and all my readers, too <3
> 
> And please, as always, leave any and all comments you can. Even if it's just keysmashes. Or paragraph essays, those are fun too. I love it all. I consume them. They are my lifeblood.


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